Harry Potter and the Rising Darkness
by kyc639
Summary: COMPLETE! Post-Hogwarts. Harry feels trapped in his life by his fame, estranged from everyone except Ron. To add to his troubles, a straightforward case of homicide points to something far more sinister.
1. A Troubling Night

**Author's notes**

A Post-Hogwarts story, though not a sequel to anything I've written before (but you can pretend).  Harry is an Auror.  Predictable?  Unfortunately yes, because Harry feels trapped in his life by his fame, estranged from everyone except Ron.  To add to his troubles, what seemed like a straightforward case of homicide points to something far more sinister.  Angst galore, and H/Hr by the end.

I own none of the characters or places that appear in my story, and I make no money off of this.  In fact, I'm probably losing money since I'm writing this while at work.

I hope you enjoy.

**1. A Troubling Night******

The gentle pop of apparition disturbed the silence of the small, one-bedroom flat.  Harry Potter appeared in the kitchen, letting out a great sigh of relief to finally be home.  It was late, well past midnight on a Friday night, or was that Saturday morning?  Either way, it was too late to care.  Harry reached down and opened the cabinet door by the stove and rooted around until he found an unopened bottle of firewhiskey.  After a day like today, it was exactly what the Healer ordered.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, Harry plodded over to the living room, removing his robes as he walked.  He gave them a quick sniff, his nose wrinkled in disgust - he would have thought by now that he would be used to the smell of death.  Harry shrugged as he tossed the robes on the floor.  He supposed that, in some ways, it was a good thing that the stench of death still bothered him; it meant that some part of him was still human.  Harry stopped at the window, overlooking a busy London street.  Even at this late (or early?) hour, Muggle London was in full swing, the sounds of traffic reaching up to his ears.  Harry sighed, fighting down the twinge of jealously – all those people without a clue, living simple, happy lives.  He turned away from the window and settled himself into his favorite reclining armchair, a luxury, an indulgence that was his only gift to himself.  Propping his feet up, Harry settled himself for a few hours of infomercials before sleep.

Harry has had many bad days in his life, and more than a lifetime of bad days before reaching the age eighteen.  But then, back at good old Hogwarts, Harry had to suffer most of those days in quiet agony.  Nowadays, Harry could curl up with his best friend, one that wouldn't speak hollow words of sympathy, one that wouldn't leave him someday.  Harry smiled fondly at his faithful companion, removed his cap and took a long pull of firewhiskey, straight from the bottle.  Harry wasn't, by any means, an alcoholic.  It was just that some days, days like today, required a sip or two.  Harry sat quietly, illuminated only by the glare from the television as he watched an overly enthusiastic woman describe the benefits of a salad spinner that came with a free (free!) knife that makes vegetables into pretty shapes, but only if Harry were to call in the next fifteen minutes.

Harry shifted slightly in his comfy chair, dropping the remote to reach his left hip.  Ah, no wonder it hurt; he had been sitting on his Auror mobile.  He unclipped it from his belt and dropped it on the floor, where it landed with a clatter.  Harry worked at the Ministry as an Auror, entering the training program after graduation.  As if there was really any choice, Harry thought wryly – it seemed he was only good for two things: either Auror or professional Quidditch, and the latter choice was violently taken away from him.  After seven years, Harry had a storied career thus far, not counting his defeat of Voldemort which was before he became an Auror, that included the arrest of group of Dark wizards (holdovers from Voldemort's glory days), the break-up of a ring of counterfeiters, and the successful resolution of a couple of kidnappings here and there (which meant returning the victims alive). Harry was a detective at age 24, and he really had no desire for anything more – well, maybe Lieutenant, but probably not.  He felt his talents, mostly thanks to old Tommy Riddle, were best suited for a hands-on role, and a job in management did not appeal to him.  Harry took another pull at the bottle as he thought over the events of the day.

*********************************

The day had begun quietly at the ministry, but it seemed as if fate were simply waiting for Harry to relax before plunging him, yet again, into a world of evil.  Right before the shift change, right before Harry would be free, it happened.

"Alright, listen up troops!  A call just came in, who's up on the wheel?" Captain Perry yelled out.

Robert Toms, Harry's partner for the past three years, nudged him with his elbow.  "That'd be us, Cap'n," he called out.  Harry looked up from the article he was reading about the latest news on MSARS – the magical version of the respiratory disease known to Muggles as Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome.  Damn that wheel, the impartial assigner of cases.  The wheel was exactly that, a wheel with every detective's name on it.  The names at the top of the wheel got the incoming case, and then the wheel would rotate to the next pair of detectives.  Harry had suspicions, though, that the wheel tended to save the worst of the lot for him.

"Ah great," Perry said dryly.  "Potter and Toms, the wonder duo.  Well, you've got your hands full with this one.  Triple homicide.  Get going."

Harry sighed as he got to his feet.  It had been such a nice day, and Harry had been looking forward to a good night's sleep.  Even discounting the investigation time, a triple-homicide meant paperwork.  A _lot_ of paperwork.

"C'mon Potter, get the lead out," Robert said.  Robert Toms was a cantankerous veteran Auror of some twenty years.  A detective like Harry, Robert disdained a "desk" job and fought every attempt at promotion.  He was grumpy, sarcastic, and bitter – they got along fabulously.  The two partners climbed into their Auror car and went off.  By the time they arrived at the crime scene, the Muggles were already there in full force.  Harry and Robert traded looks – dealing with Muggles could be irritating.

"Hello Detectives," a congenial voice greeted them.

"Tompkins," Harry said.  "Isn't it a little too late to be so chipper?"

"Ah, there's never a bad time to be cheery, Detective."

"You'll learn, soon enough kid," Robert said in his usual manner.  Harry and Tompkins traded amused looks.  Officer Tompkins had been an Auror for thirteen years, hardly a kid.  His zone of responsibility covered London.  Like Muggle police, Aurors were divided into regions.  Detectives like Harry covered all of Great Britain; while patrolmen like Officer Tompkins were divided based on geography since they were the first line of peace-keeping and needed an intimate knowledge of their area.  Given the much smaller population of wizards, the regions were much larger than their Muggle equivalents: Scotland and Ireland were divided into two regions each, and England into four, with London a region in its own, given the high number of magicals living there.  

"Alright, so what do we have?" Harry asked as he pulled out his wand.

"Triple homicide: Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and their young daughter.  Looks like the perpetrator was a Muggle."

"Muggle?" Robert said.  "Well, that makes our job easier."  

Harry said nothing, inwardly sighing at the thought of a dead child.  Instead, he just grunted.  "Imagery been through?"

"Left about ten minutes ago."

"They're always fast.  Did the clean-up crew arrive yet?"

Tompkins nodded.  "A few minutes before you did.  Already casted their spells and just waiting for your word to finish up."  Harry nodded.  The "clean-up crew," as they were so affectionately known, were called in cases involving wizards and Muggles.  In a case like this, they would perform charms and spells designed to keep the Muggles from suspecting that the victims were magical, and after Harry and Robert performed their investigation, they would remove all evidence of magic. 

"How about forensics?" Roberts asked.

"Er, well…" Tompkins looked uncomfortable.

"Well what?  Are they here or not?"

"They heard it was probably done by a Muggle, so they didn't show."

"Damn it!" Harry cried, tightening his grip on his wand.  "Lazy sons….they just don't want to be out on a Friday night."

"Probably true," Robert said.  "Let's see if it _was_ a Muggle; if so, no harm no foul."

"But still…" Harry fumed.  Robert just smiled and guided the younger wizard into the home.  Tompkins stayed outside, keeping order as a few curious witches and wizards started to come by, attracted by the activity.

It was always hard working alongside Muggle police at a crime scene.  The clean-up crew had already cast the masking spells, saving Harry and Robert time.  But even though they would not be noticeable to the Muggles, they still had to be careful to stay out of the way while at the same time conducting their own investigation.  Harry had to admit that the Muggles knew how to preserve a crime scene.

"Over here," he heard Robert say.  Harry walked over to where the bodies lay, being photographed by a Muggle policeman.  "Gunshots, Harry.  Looks like a robbery gone wrong.  Very wrong," Robert said quietly.

Harry nodded.  Wizards don't use guns, so it most likely was a Muggle who did this.  That meant that they could turn the case over to the Muggle Crimes (MC) division, who would monitor and provide magical help, if needed, to solve this case: MC did _not_ like it when a crime against a wizard went unsolved.  "Well, let's finish this up.  If we hurry, I can still catch the second half of the big game."

"Second half?  Don't tell me you're talking about that Muggle sport again!"

Harry chuckled.  "Football is a great sport, Robert.  You need to expand your mind."

"But…but…the ball doesn't even move by itself!" Robert said disdainfully.

"You purebloods are so sheltered," Harry said teasingly.  Harry's preoccupation with Muggle sports was a constant source of amusement for Robert.  But for Harry, it was more than that - watching Quidditch was just too painful; it reminded him of what he lost.  "C'mon, let's finish up and hand this thing off."  Robert nodded and they set off separately.

Harry looked around carefully, searching for any signs of magical involvement and, at the same time, seeing if he could tell whether anything magical was missing.  Although it would be up to MC to retrieve any stolen magical objects, the Aurors at the scene always tried to help out.  But everything seemed as it should, and Harry forced himself back to the bodies.  He examined the father and the mother – both dead of a single gunshot.  He next turned towards the young daughter; he always hated whenever children were involved.  A little too young to be of Hogwarts age, this little one probably wasn't even magical yet.  Harry sighed.  As Harry had no family of his own, seeing a family destroyed like this always hit a little closer to home, like the desecration of paradise Harry could never have.  Harry noticed that the little girl died slightly differently from her parents.  There were two gunshot wounds, and there was something else.  Harry cast a forensics spell.

"Roberts!  Over here!"  

Roberts ambled over.  "What is it?"

"Look at this," Harry said, pointing at the little girl.

Robert took a moment to examine the girl.  "Okay, so what am I supposed to be seeing?"

"Do you…feel it?  Feel the magic?"

Robert closed his eyes and concentrated.  "Sorry, nothing."

Harry scowled.  "I feel magic here."

"Well, sure Harry.  I mean, this _is_ a wizarding family-"

"No, I mean I feel magic in this kid; she's covered in magic like her parents."

Robert took another look.  "Well, she _is_ a bit young to be covered in magic.  She couldn't have done it herself, unless her parents did something…"

"And look at this," Harry said, pointing a beam of light from his wand onto one of the gunshot wounds.  "This one here was a sloppy shot, not like the other one or the ones that killed her parents.  And I used the one of the forensics spells.  This wound bled less then the other one.  Now, since the other wound would have killed her instantly, I think this one was given after she died.  As if to cover up something, like a spell bruise."

Roberts knelt down by the young girl's body and cast his own spell.  "I'll admit that the magic bit is a bit fishy Harry, but a cover-up is a big leap from the meager evidence we have here."

Harry nodded.  "I know, but I think it at least warrants waking up those lazy bastards in forensics and getting them down here."

"Alright Potter, but _you_ wake them up."

*********************************

Harry remembered with a slight sense of satisfaction the disgruntled face of the forensics officer when the arrived.  If Harry had to have his night ruined, it only seemed fair that someone else should suffer as well.  Harry and Robert were able to finish the paperwork rather quickly, since they had to leave many of the boxes and blanks unfilled until forensics completed their work.  Harry took another pull at the bottle of firewhiskey, letting the fierce liquid numb his senses, even if only for a night.  At times like this, when faced with a particularly bad case, usually involving children, Harry fell into a fit of self-pity.  Harry looked around his small flat, looking rather desolate and lonely at the moment.  Harry took a sip as he pondered the series of events that led him to this point, and, once again, as always, came to the conclusion that it was inevitable he would end up like this - alone.   While Harry wasn't afraid of turning into a Robert one day, bitter and sarcastic (heck, Harry was _already _these things), Robert had the benefit of a family to go home to, a wife to snuggle with and kids to yell at.  Harry saw none of these things in his future.  He switched off the television as he staggered to his feet, wondering how the bottle had emptied so quickly.


	2. Initial Investigation

**11/10/03: **Here's the next bit.  These chapters seem much longer then the ones in my other stories.  Oh well.

**2. Initial Investigation******

A loud banging threatened to wake Harry from his peaceful slumber, but he was able to power through the nuisance and return blissfully to a world of oblivion.  Unfortunately, a shaking hand was a bit too much to resist.

"Harry!  Harry!  Wake up you lazy bastard!"

"Leave me alone," Harry mumbled.  But that shaking hand proved to be stubborn, and Harry cracked open an eyelid.  He was greeting with a vision of red.  Must be too much firewhiskey; Harry blinked rapidly, but the red didn't go away.

"Ron?" he asked weakly. 

"That's right.  Wake up man.  Sheesh, you stink, you filthy pig!"

"I don't stink," Harry protested groggily.  "It's just the alcohol."

"Oh, in _that_ case, I stand corrected.  What, on another late night bender, pissing the night away?"

Harry made no verbal response, instead choosing to reply succinctly with but a single finger.  Ron laughed.

"What are you doing here, anyways?  How'd you get in here?"

"We agreed to meet this morning, remember?  For the party?  As for how I get in, it wasn't easy, I tell you.  Why can't you live in a wizarding community like everyone else?  I hate having to sneak around the Muggles."

"If I lived in a wizarding community, you'd have to sneak around all the fans camped out on my doorstep," Harry said blandly.  He slowly got into a seated position, thankful that the firewhiskey had been enchanted to reduce the effect of a hangover.  Harry looked around, slightly miffed that he had not even been able to make his way to his bed before passing out.  "How'd you get in the apartment?  Did the wards fail?"

Ron shook his head as he opened the refrigerator door.  "You gave me a key numbskull, for emergencies.  I'm hungry, and I believe that counts as an emergency.  Dang Potter!  Don't you ever go grocery shopping?"

Harry tried to clear his head; the firewhiskey still packed a wallop, especially if you drink a whole bottle.  "There's some biscuits in the cabinet above the sink."

"Great!" Ron said, brightening when he found them.  "So, how long until you get ready?  There's still a lot to shop for."

"One sec," Harry said, walking unsteadily towards the bathroom.  After answering nature's call, Harry sat on one of the bar stools while Ron munched away.  "Sorry, mate.   I might have to cancel on you."

"What?  You can't abandon me to shop by myself!"

"Sorry.  There was a pretty bad case last night.  Hopefully I can just check in and then leave, but it'll probably take all day."

"Hell!" Ron said, looking rather depressed.

"Cheer up Ron.  Go call up Natalie; I bet she'd love to go shopping with you."

"You think?" he asked, all of a sudden very interested.

"I saw the way she looked at you.  And she lives right by Diagon Alley.  Tell her I abandoned you and that you need advice; she'll know exactly what to get after living with Ginny for seven years."

Ron nodded thoughtfully.   "Yeah, that could work.  So, how long do you think you'll be?  You _will_ make the party, won't you?"

Harry declined to answer, instead picking his robe up from the floor and walking into his bedroom.

"Haarrryy?" Ron asked, following.  "C'mon Harry!  You've already backed out the last three times!  Hermione will be there, you know she hardly gets out anymore."

Harry paused briefly.  "Yeah, too busy with what's-his-name," he grumbled.

"That's not why and you know it!  That MSARS is driving everyone nuts, and it's spreading around the world.  Hermione's the best researcher and clinician they have at St. Mungo's, and she's been working non-stop.  This'll be the first time she'll be out in who-knows-when."  Harry nodded, grudgingly accepting Ron's argument, but saying nothing.

Ron tried again.  "C'mon Harry!  The three of us haven't been together in years!"

"We were just together two weeks ago at Ginny's wedding, remember?"

"That's not what I mean.  You barely said two words to her then.  I mean _really_ together, like in the old days."

Harry rounded on him.  "That wasn't _my_ choice, Ron.  Don't forget: _she_ ended it, not me!"  The bitterness was evident in his voice.  

"Er, sorry," Ron said quietly.  

Harry immediately felt ashamed when he saw his friend's face drop.  "No, I'm sorry, Ron.  It's not your fault.  I don't mean to put you in the middle of this."

"Harry, it's been _four_ years…can't you just-"

"No," Harry said simply, but firmly.

Ron sighed heavily, but said no more.  It was a conversation they'd had many times in the past, with the same outcome each time.  "But, you will try and make the party, right?  It's for Ginny and Neville; they'll be crushed if you don't make it."

"I know, I know," Harry said tiredly, throwing the soiled robes in the hamper and pulling out a fresh pair.  "I'll try Ron, I promise."

"You better.  Otherwise, I won't try to stop Ginny from tearing you a new one."

Harry chuckled.  "Not like you could even if you wanted to."

Ron nodded.  "True, she's a tough one, that Ginny."

"Alright Ron, I gotta get going.  I'm really sorry about this."  Harry went over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder.

"Aw, that's alright Harry.  I mean, it's not, but I understand.  Mind if I use your floo to call Natalie?"

"Sure, be sure to lock up before you leave."  Then, Harry threw the powder into the fireplace and yelled "The Ministry of Magic!"

"See ya Harry."

"Later Ron."

*********************************

The entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic was deserted on a Saturday.  

"Morning, Detective," greeted the wizard manning the front desk.

"Hi Billy.  How's the wife?" Harry said as he passed through the Security screen.

"Good Detective Potter.  Thanks for asking."

Harry took the lift to the Auror level and walked down the hallways.  Though the rest of the Ministry essentially shut down on weekends, the Aurors were still busy.  Harry walked into the Detective's room, nicknamed the Bullpen since Aurors were always waiting to be called for the next case. (**A/N:** I dunno if Bullpen is familiar term to Brits.  It refers to the area in baseball where relief pitchers sit around and do nothing until they get a call from the manager/coaches to start warming up.)  He found Robert already at his desk, looking over some parchments.

"Glad to see you finally decided to join us," Robert said in his usual dry tone.

Harry shot him a look, which elicited a bark of laughter.  "Tell me some good news, Robert," Harry said as he took his seat at the desk across from Robert's.  "Tell me it was a Muggle, and I can go back home and sleep more."

Robert shook his head.  "Sorry partner.  Forensics came back and confirmed spell damage on all three victims.  I won ten galleons from those suckers who thought you were nutters."

Harry laughed.  "I'm happy to see that you have such faith in me."

"Of course!  I learned early on never to doubt the Great Harry Potter!  You want your cut?"

Harry shook his head.  "Your risk, your winnings."  

"The Cap'n wants to see us when you got in.  C'mon."  Harry nodded and heaved himself out of his chair.  He followed his partner to the end of the bullpen, where Captain Perry had his office.  Robert knocked on the glass door, and Capt. Perry's voice told them to enter.

"Morning Captain," the two detectives said.

"Morning.  Damn it Potter, if you weren't so good I'd kick your bleep from here into next week for being late, scar or no scar!  Actually, I still might; I haven't decided yet."

"Sorry Cap'n."  Harry suffered under his glare for a few moments until Perry got back on track.

"Anyways, good call on the magical involvement last night Potter.  I had some pretty pissed off forensics people here this morning, a few with lighter money bags, for some strange reason."  Robert had the good graces to hide his smile.  "Anyways, I had to make forensics even unhappier, so don't be surprised if you're not tops on their favorite person list."

"Captain?" Harry asked confused.

"Your discovery got me to think that maybe this isn't the first time that a wizard committed a crime then tried to make it seem like a Muggle.  I asked forensics to double-check all the cases that MC couldn't solve.  I told them to get back with complete results by Monday or else I'd send you to have a chat with them."

"Thanks a lot Captain," Harry said dryly. 

"No problem Potter.  Anytime," he said cheerily.  "Anyways, you two get started on this case.  Treat it as an isolated case for now.  Based on what forensics finds, we might have to get some more people on the case.  Now get out of here."

Harry and Robert stood and left the office and back to their desks.  Harry groaned.  "Oh, how I wish this was just a simple Muggle killing.  Just once I'd like a nice, easy rotation!"

"Chin up, Potter!  We both got better things to do.  The sooner we start, the sooner we can get out of here." 

Harry sighed.  "Alright, can I see what forensics put together so far?"

Robert nodded and handed over the file. "Don't get your hopes up."

Harry read through the report and found very little to tell them why the Campbells were murdered.  At least they had found enough residual magic to find a match to a wand.  Harry next turned to the report of the clean-up crew, who had run a quick analysis on the magical devices found in the home.  Nothing out of the ordinary, no illegal or questionable objects found, no items looked as if they'd been disturbed or stolen.  Harry sighed.

"I told you," Robert reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah.  So, what do we know about the victims?"

"Don and Laura Campbell, age 45 and 42.  Both magical.  Daughter Melanie, age 9.  Don was a manager of an appliance shop in Diagon Alley, and Laura was a housewife.  No prior brushes with the law; by all accounts, a perfectly happy and law-abiding family."

"Any witnesses?"

"Tompkins canvassed the nearby magicals, but no one heard or saw anything out of the ordinary.  The Campbells lived about fifteen minutes away from their nearest magical neighbor, so that was expected.  He got a couple parchment-fulls of information though."

Harry nodded.  "Muggle witnesses?"

"MC just dropped off a stack of parchment."

"Alright.  So, Mr. I-have-twenty-years-of-experience-and-you're-just-a-snot-nosed-kid, what do we do now?"

Robert chuckled.  "I suppose the standard, until we hear differently from forensics."

Harry nodded.  "Alright, you want the MC parchments or Tompkins' data?"

"I'll take Tompkins' parchments; it's shorter.  You just got here so you get to wade through the MC information."

Harry groaned and reached over for the first of twenty centimeters of parchment that Robert placed on his desk.

*********************************

It was truly amazing how so much parchment could contain so little information, much like a Divination report.  Harry threw the last piece of parchment back on the pile in resignation.  Harry placed his head on his desk.  That was two hours he'd never have back; those wizards in the MC sure liked to use big words.

"Anything?" Robert asked, looking up from his parchment.

Harry shook his head.  "Absolutely nothing.  No Muggles saw a thing, and the Muggle police are clueless, much like we are right now.  What about you?"

Robert also shook his head.  "Aside from the fact that they were a wonderful family and never had any problems, I got nothing."

"Should we check out his place of business?"

Robert nodded.  "Afterwards we can drop by Imagery to review the crime scene.  Should be done by then."

Magical Solutions was a small, local business tucked in the corner of Diagon Alley, somehow able to survive the influx of larger discount chain stores that Harry had been seeing pop up more frequently.  The store sold a myriad of appliances, all magical of course.  There were sinks that washed dishes, hampers that sorted and cleaned clothes, and televisions that both got the WWN as well as Muggle programming.  It had a separate section for those who lived by Muggles, carrying items such as magical hampers designed to look like Muggle washing machines.  Harry and Robert entered the shop and walked to the checkout counter.

"Hello.  I'm Detective Toms and this is Detective Potter.  We're looking for a manager," Robert said, displaying his Auror identification.  The store clerk momentarily froze at the mention of Harry's name, his eyes drawn inexorably to Harry's forehead.  After thirteen years in the wizarding world, Harry had finally learned to mostly ignore the stares.  He had taken to styling his hair in a more current fashion, not bothering to matt down his hair to hide the scar that everyone saw anyways.  "The manager?" Robert said, interrupting the clerk's awe-struck gaze.

"Er, right, sorry," the clerk said before scurrying off.   Robert made no comment about the fan worship, having become accustomed to it after three years of working with the Boy-Who-Lived.  Moments later, a visibly nervous witch walked up to them, though nervous because they were Aurors or nervous because one of them was Harry Potter, they couldn't tell.

"Hello.  I'm Detective Toms and this is Detective Potter."

"Hi, I'm Samantha Davis.  I'm the manager here.  Can I help you?"

"Yes, we have a few questions about Mr. Don Campbell."

"Oh!  Well, Don's not here today, it's his day off.  Is he in any trouble?"

"No.  Actually…Mr. Campbell and his family were murdered last night."

"Oh…dear god!" Samantha's face paled and she stumbled back slightly until she leaned against the counter.  "M-murdered?  Even little Melanie?"

Harry nodded sympathetically.  "I'm sorry," he said, trading a look with Robert.  No matter how many times they had to deliver bad news, it never got easier.

"What-what happened?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Robert said.  "We're just following standard procedure, ma'am.  We want to know everything about his work here, what he was involved in."

"Of course…of course," Samantha said and then hesitated.  "Everything?  Maybe I should call Mr. Haas…"

"Who's Mr. Haas?"

"He's the owner.  He'll be better able to tell you what Don was working on.  I'll go floo him immediately," she said, running off.

Harry and Robert shrugged and then occupied themselves with the latest in home appliances.  A few minutes later, a rather harried man in his mid-fifties approached the two Aurors.  "Mr. Potter, truly an honor to meet you," he said, his arm outstretched.  Robert stood silently, again accustomed to being ignored in favor for his famous partner.  "I'm Billy Haas, the owner.  Now, Samantha told me the horrible news.  Just horrible.  You needed to look at what he was working on?"

Harry nodded.  "Just standard procedure."  Harry had quickly found that many employers tended to get extremely nervous whenever Aurors went sniffing around.  Saying 'standard procedure' over and over again tended to smooth frayed nerves.  

Haas led them to the offices in the back of the shop.  "This is Mr. Campbell's office.  He shared it with the other managers, like Mrs. Davis."

Harry nodded and looked at Mr. Haas, locking eyes.  "Do you have any suspicious or know of any reason why Mr. Campbell or his family was murdered?"

Mr. Haas fidgeted slightly under Harry's stare. "N-no, none at all."

Harry looked away, satisfied.  "Alright then, Mr. Haas.  We'll try and be quick," he said.  Mr. Haas got the hint and left the two detectives alone.

"You believe him?" Robert asked.

"Yes, I don't think he knows anything."

Robert nodded and began to look through the desk, satisfied with Harry's answer.  Harry watched him for a moment, feeling a momentary twinge of guilt.  Harry knew Robert had come to rely on Harry's instincts when it came to questioning witnesses and suspects, but Robert didn't know the real extent of Harry's abilities.

Old Professor Dumbledore was correct in ways even _he_ didn't know back in second year, when he said Voldemort transferred some of his power to Harry.  The Parseltongue was the most obvious example; it was common knowledge, being reported in the Daily Prophet years ago.  Harry was even able to use the ability to his advantage as an Auror, often using small snakes as reconnaissance when magical devices would be detected.  But Harry had another skill that Voldemort also possessed: Legilimency.  (**A/N: **sound familiar?  It's a common element in all my writing so far.)  Like Parseltongue, Legilimency was considered by the general wizarding public to be a Dark Art.  Harry wasn't keen on providing the press with another subject to write about, and being a secret legilimens had its advantages.  Although he couldn't actively sift through someone's memories without casting the spell, and thereby revealing his ability, Harry could sense many things about a person by locking eyes, such as whether or not they were hiding something or lying.  Mr. Haas was not lying, and Harry was satisfied the old man didn't know anything relevant to the case.

Harry and Robert found little of use in the office.  It seemed in addition to be in charge of the store when Mr. Haas wasn't around, Mr. Campbell had responsibility for Quality Control (i.e., making sure everything worked when it arrived from the manufacturer) and Purchasing.  Not exactly things that would make him the target of a murderer.  They thanked Mr. Haas and Mrs. Davis for their help and left the store, leaving their office floo address in case they thought of anything that might be relevant.  The two Detectives then floo'ed back to the Ministry.

Their last stop of the day was in Imagery, a part of the forensics department.  One huge advantage of solving crimes in the wizarding world was the ability to capture a crime scene for later analysis.  Although part of forensics, Imagery was also used to record special events and ceremonies as well.  Harry and Robert opened the door and entered the small waiting room.  

"Hi Roxy," Harry said to the witch behind the counter.

"Hi Detectives.  Thought you might be in some time today.  I have it spooled up, ready to go, in Exam Room #7."

"Thanks Roxy," Robert said as they were buzzed into the main area of Imagery.  They entered Exam Room #7 and flipped the switch by the wall.  Instantly, the large room shimmered and the two Aurors found themselves back at the Campbell's residence.  

"Well, let's get started."  They spent about an hour searching through the home, looking for clues or evidence that they might have missed the first time around.  Unfortunately, they found nothing of significance, nothing that could help explain why a manager and his family were killed.  With a heavy heart, Harry ended the charm, and the two returned to their desks in the Bullpen, where they were the only two Aurors still at work.

"What's next?" Harry asked.

"I think that's enough for today.  I'm going home."

"What?  But…I'll stay and work a little longer.  I mean, I got here much later than you did."

"Harry…go _home_.  It'll still be here in the morning.  And the morning after that."

Harry sighed, not really wanting to go home, because that meant going to the Longbottom's.  He sat quietly as he watched Robert tidy up his desk and stand, preparing to leave.  "Potter, let's go.  As your superior, I'm ordering you to go home."

Harry chuckled.  "You may be older and my senior, but I hardly think you're superior," he said with a smile.  Giving in to the inevitable, Harry quickly ordered the MC parchments into a neat stack and stood.  The two partners took the lift to the entrance hall, where they floo'ed to their individual destinations.

*********************************

Harry felt something was…_off_ the second he arrived at his flat.  He quickly drew his wand and surveyed the room.

"Oy, there Harry!  A bit paranoid, are we?"

"Fred!  What are you doing here?"  Fred was one-half of the infamous Weasley twins, brother of his best friend and co-owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  Harry holstered his wand.

Fred sat at Harry's kitchen table, eating a cake.  "What?  Can't a guy just drop in out of the blue to see his pal and only investor?"  

Harry gave him a mock look of suspicion.  "Seriously."

Fred shrugged.  "Ron asked us to wait for you, to make sure you went to Ginny's little shin-dig.  Otherwise, little sister would have our hides.  Oy!  Wake up George!  Harry's here!"  

George Weasley, Fred's other half, stirred from his place on Harry's couch.  "Wha?"

"Wakey wakey!"

George grunted and opened his eyes.  "Oh, hullo Harry, good of you to finally arrive," he said, yawning widely.

Harry smiled at the twins.  Along with Ron, Fred and George were among his most trusted and faithful friends.  The bitter, cynical part of Harry suspected that it was only because he had bought their friendship and loyalty years ago with the winnings from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but he supposed that it didn't really matter why; they had proven their loyalty time and time again over the years.

"Really Harry," Fred said, his mouth full of cake, "you really need to do some grocery shopping.  If Ron hadn't bribed us with cake, we would have stared to death."

"Very true, very true, brother," George said as he got up from the couch.  "You just get here Harry?"

Harry nodded.  "Long day at work.  Have you guys been waiting long?"

"Just all day.  But don't worry, your Muggle television kept us amused.  Get changed and let's go.  The party's probably already started."

Harry walked to his bedroom as George fully woke up.  He had privately been hoping that he could stay home and hide, but Ron had outsmarted him, a rare thing indeed.  Harry took a quick shower to wipe off the grit he had picked up during the day and changed into clean robes.  "Alright, let's go," he said reluctantly as he walked back into the main room.  George placed the last bite of cake into his mouth and then the three wizards floo'ed to the Longbottoms.

**A/N: **Hello to everyone from my old stories and to everyone reading me for the first time.  I hope you enjoy!

**Sethro72: **Yes, this one will be much more angsty then my other stories.  It's not a big deal why he can't play Quidditch, but it does add to his bitterness since it was one of his few joys.  It'll come up soon, I think, but it had nothing to do with Umbridge

**Facade1:** Yay, Façade!  Hermione's coming in the next chapter, but only briefly.  Around Chapter 5 or so we'll get into details about her.

**liseli vanida-kateb**: I have slowed down my writing, but for a while there I wrote so much that I'm way ahead.  I really should be doing work…

**onkel **and** ears91**: Hi!  More details on the estrangement next chapter.  Harry's supposed to be about 24 now, but I'm sure I'll forget and mess it up somewhere.  

To anyone who read my last fic, HP & Decisions of Fate:  Wow, I wasn't expecting so many differing views on my ending(s).  Now, no one ever accused me of not bowing to the will of the consumer, so now I'm not sure where to start the sequel – with Harry and Hermione together or apart?  Obviously it'll have a huge impact on the sequel, though it won't affect the main plot.  Maybe a poll?  Let me know what you think!


	3. Making Small Talk

**11/11/03: **Here's a shorter chapter, but still longer than my average ones.

**3. Making Small Talk******

George was right; the party was in full swing by the time they arrived through the fireplace.  "Hi Harry!  So good to see you!"

Harry turned to see who had greeted him.  "Hi Megan, good to see you too."  Megan Jones was a Hufflepuff from their year.  Harry didn't really know her that well while at Hogwarts (actually, he didn't really know her that well right now, either), but Neville's unassuming demeanor and overall likeability made him popular among the Hufflepuffs.  There were quite a few here today.

"Harry, meet Jennifer Molloy.  She works with Ginny."

Harry turned to the dark-haired witch standing beside Megan.  "Hi Jennifer," he said, extending his hand.

"Hi Harry, nice to meet you," she said somewhat breathlessly, her eyes meeting his own after they had examined his scar.  She gave his hand a squeeze.  "Did you come here alone?"

Harry nodded.  "Yup, flying solo today," he said, inwardly groaning when he saw Jennifer's eyes light up.  _This_ was why he hated going to these things.  They talked for a few minutes, Megan leaving them once she realized that Jennifer wasn't paying her any more attention.  Harry did his best to be polite, she was a nice witch after all, but he had never really developed the patience for things like this.  It was with great relief that he heard his name called.

"Harry!  Harry!  Glad to see you could make it!"  Harry turned to see Ron Weasley making his way towards him, dragging Natalie MacDonald by the hand.

"Ron, thank God!  I mean, nice to see you!" Harry said.

"Hi Jennifer," Ron said, turning towards her.  "Do you mind?  I have to show Harry something."

"Oh, not at all.  I'll see you around then, Harry," she said, lightly brushing her hand across his chest as she walked away.

Harry groaned.  "Thanks for the rescue."

"My pleasure.  Fred and George said you were accosted the second you floo'ed in."

"Ron!  Jennifer is a perfectly nice witch!" Natalie said with a slight rebuke.  "Hello Harry, nice to see you."

"Hi Natalie.  Did you two go shopping?"

She nodded.  "Ron was rather clueless, but we had a good time," she said, taking hold of his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.  Harry smiled at Ron, who was grinning.

"Hullo Harry!"

Harry turned to see Molly Weasley walking up to him and they shared a quick hug.  "I'm so glad you could make it!  We've really missed you around the Burrow."

Harry nodded.  "I've been busy, that's all."

"Well, don't work yourself too hard Harry.  Oh, I have to run.  Ginny needs me to pick up some things at the store.  Drop by the Burrow when you have a moment Harry.  I'll cook you something nice."

"Alright Mrs. Weasley; I'll owl you," Harry said somewhat stiffly.  Satisfied, Molly left towards the front door.  Harry grimaced, then shrugged sheepishly when he saw that Ron had noticed.  "Sorry Ron," he said.

Ron shrugged as well.  "Don't worry about it," he said somewhat sadly.

Natalie looked between them, confused.  "What?"

"It's nothing Natalie.  Let's go get some refreshments," Ron said, steering her towards the patio door, but not before throwing a disappointed glance over his shoulder at Harry.  Harry sighed, wishing life could be different.  For almost ten years of his life, Arthur and Molly Weasley have been surrogate parents to him.  They provided him with a welcoming home to come to, and Molly in particular protected him as fiercely as if he were her own son.  All of that changed, though when Harry arrested Percy Weasley.

As long as Harry had known him, Percy had always been a pain in the behind.  At first, when he they were at school together, Percy was simply an irritant: a bit overbearing and very enthusiastic about his duties as Prefect and later, Head Boy.  But later, under the influence of Cornelius Fudge, Percy had tried his best to defame Harry, even going so far as to tell Ron to keep away from him.  After Voldemort was confirmed to be alive and Fudge was thrown out of office in disgrace, Percy became sullen and withdrawn from the rest of the Weasleys, apparently blaming Harry for most of his problems.  Then, on one of Harry's first cases as an Auror, Harry had stumbled upon a political scandal linked to the murder of a young Squib.  Working feverishly, Harry had untangled the web and uncovered a conspiracy that involved Percy.  He was sent to prison for only ten years, as he could not be linked to the murder itself.  During the investigation and trial, Arthur and Molly turned their back on Harry; in fact, of all the Weasleys, only Ron, Ginny, and the twins talked to Harry.  As the years went by, Arthur and Molly tried to pretend as if nothing had happened, and gradually returned to inviting Harry over for dinner.  But Harry could never forget – never forget that they weren't his real family, that he _had_ no family.  Blood was, indeed, thicker than water, and there was no blood ties to the Weasleys, as the Percy incident proved.  Although the logical side of Harry could understand their reaction, Harry never recovered from the event.  He hadn't been to the Burrow ever since.

Harry spent the next hour wandering Neville and Ginny's home and backyard, making small talk.  Harry was never any good in large crowds, having become used to the solitude and privacy afforded by a small cupboard.  But he learned to put on a good face; after all, he was the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater-of-Voldemort, Famous-Auror, and he often found himself the center of attention.  It was either avoid people altogether or adapt, and Harry was good at adapting.  Fortunately, people tended to enjoy hearing the same stories over and over again as they gazed at him with awe, making polite conversation easier.  There were, of course, people he _did_ want to see and talk to, like Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, who had all played Quidditch both with himself and with Ginny back at Hogwarts.  Lee Jordan was fun to talk to, and it was nice to see Dean and Seamus again.  Lavender and Pavarti were still rather giggly, but they had definitely matured, and talking to them was more enjoyable.  But Harry had still not talked to the hosts of the party, and he went out looking for them.

That's when he spotted _her_, arriving by floo with _him_.  Harry paused by the patio door, frozen in place while he watched him helped brush the soot off of her.  It was such a simple gesture, a small gesture of affection, but it was something that Harry should have been doing.  For a moment, Harry allowed a crack to form in the wall around his heart, and he felt the pain and hurt flow through his body.  But then she spotted him and said something to her companion, and they walked in his direction.  Harry straightened, and the walls came back up, solid and impenetrable.

"Hi Harry," she said, slightly nervous.

"Hi Hermione.  You look nice."

"Thanks."

"Um…I hear you've been working hard."

Hermione nodded.  "MSARS has been taking a lot of my time."

"Don't overdue it; don't forget what happened in our third year when you tried to take on too much." Harry said, concern showing in his voice.

Hermione nodded, a slight smile at her lips.  "How could I forget?"

Harry looked over at the man standing next to her, his arm casually draped around her shoulders.  "Rick," he said, nodding at the man.

Rick smiled.  "Good to see you mate!  C'mon Hermione, let's go find the food – I'm famished."

Hermione smiled at up at Rick, then looked back at Harry.  "Alright then.  We'll see you around Harry?"

"Sure thing."  Harry watched as _Rick_ led her away from him.  Oh, how he hated that man; he could barely say the name aloud without spitting.  Rick Nelson was a friend of Charlie Weasley, a fellow dragon-keeper that he had worked with in Romania.  He was big, burley, outgoing, and loud.  He told outlandish stories and reveled in the attention, eagerly showing the scars and burn marks from dealing with dragons.  He was Beater in school and very popular.  Rick was a man's man, or, in other words, the complete opposite of Harry.  Harry walked over to the bar set up in the main room and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey; it would have to do until he got home.

"Harry!" he heard a squeal, and turned around to see Ginny Weasley, make that Ginny Longbottom, smiling happily up at him.  They shared a quick hug, and Harry shook hands with Neville.

"Ginny!  Neville!  It's good to see you!  Nice tan!  I see the Caribbean has been good to you," Harry said with genuine warmth.

"Thanks Harry," Neville said.  "It was definitely hard to come back."

"I'm so glad you could make it Harry," Ginny said.  "Ron said you might have to work late."

"Oh Ginny, I wouldn't have missed your return for all the Chocolate Frogs in the world.  Besides, Fred and George were waiting for me."

Ginny laughed delightedly.  She and Neville told him a bit more about their honeymoon before Bill Weasley came up to them.  "Hi Harry, good to see you," he said with a smile.  "Neville, do you have any more steaks?  We're running a little low."

"Sure, follow me," he said, leading Bill away after sharing a quick kiss with his wife.

Harry watched Ginny as she watched Neville walk away, a smile at his lips.  "Married life treating you well, I see," he said dryly.

Ginny turned her attention back to Harry and nodded happily.  "It's great…and the sex!"

Harry flinched, covering his ears with his hands.  "Stop!  I don't want to know," he cried to Ginny's peals of laughter.  Then she leaned in and dropped her voice.

"What about you, Harry?"

"What about me?  You want to know about my sex life?"

"Ew!  No, Harry!  I saw you talking to Hermione.  How're you doing?"

"Fine," Harry said, tight-lipped.

"Don't lie to me Potter," she said firmly.

Harry regarded Ginny.  The Ginny Longbottom standing before him was a far cry from the young, flustered and blushing girl he knew at Hogwarts.  She had really come into her own in fifth year, suddenly transformed (at least in Harry's eyes) into a strong, independent young woman, and, like her brothers Ron, Fred, and George, a loyal friend time and time again.  That cynical side supposed that saving her life when she was eleven could have something to do with it though.  He let his shoulders slump.  "It was…difficult.  Seeing her move on, I mean."

"Oh Harry," Ginny said sympathetically.  "She still loves you, you know that, right?"

Harry shrugged.  "Maybe back then, but it wasn't enough, was it?"

Ginny said nothing and just hugged him.  Harry allowed himself a moment to feel comforted before breaking away.  "Anyways, this is your day, a happy one.  Let's talk about something else," Harry said, a slight note of pleading in his voice.  Ginny must have noticed his quiet desperation, for she nodded and led him over to a group of people, where the small talk began again.  Finally, Harry was able to feign fatigue and make his goodbyes, much to everyone's disappointment.  He then floo'ed home and slipped into bed, truly exhausted after a full day.  Harry never did see Hermione again that night.

**Facade1**: Wow, one review for each chapter!  Note to self: chastise Facade to get more reviews.  Sequel will come out after this one's done.  

**liseli vanida-kateb**: I think you like it 'cause everyone loves a good angsty fic :)  I'll try and put more of the twins in, but I fear that I won't do them justice.  Have you given up on your Slyth!Harry fic?  I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter.

**JT**: I think it's the subliminal messages I put in every other sentence about sending me money via paypal…

**HeeroTomoe**: Thanks for the compliments, and sorry that I don't update on weekends, no computer.  Hey, maybe it's like breaking a dam; now that you got two paragraphs, the rest will come flooding though!

**Risty**: stop reading and get back to studying!  No updates for you!  After your exams you can come back and read to your hearts content (of course, this coming from a guy who watched _Alien _and _Aliens_ the night before midterms instead of studying…)


	4. “Relaxed” Sundays

**11/12/03:  **Here's the next chapter. 

**4. "Relaxed" Sundays******

The buzzing of his alarm woke Harry early the next morning.  Harry groaned as he reached over to silence the offending machine.  He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before heaving himself up and heading off towards the bathroom.  It was early Sunday morning, much too early to be awake.  Harry quickly showered and got dressed, putting on his Auror robes.  Yesterday Harry had been late to work and suffered Robert's barbs and teases; today, he would be there first.  Harry grabbed a muffin before flooing to the Ministry of Magic.

As Harry checked in and rode the lift towards the Bullpen, he thought back to the party of last night.  He had to admit that he had enjoyed himself somewhat; it was nice to see many of his old friends that he hadn't seen in a long while.  Neville and Ginny looked happy together, and Harry was pleased to see that Ginny's confidence and self-assurance had rubbed off on Neville.  In fact, everything had been going along as well as can be expected, until Hermione got there.  

Harry growled in frustration as he stepped off the lift.  Even after all these years, he still couldn't move on.  Harry wasn't sure if it was because he still had feelings for her, if he was still angry with the way it ended, or whether their failed relationship was just a reminder of the kind of life he was forced into; either way, it took most of his self control to keep from dissolving into a puddle of self-pity and despair every time he saw her.  With these thoughts accompanying him into the bullpen, Harry was decidedly _not_ in a good mood, made somewhat worse by what he saw once he arrived.

"God man, don't you ever sleep?" Harry asked.

Robert looked over at him a smiled.  "Evil waits for no man, Potter.  You'd do well to remember that."

Harry looked at him a moment.  "Shut it!" he said, to Robert's laughs of delight.  "So, Mr. Awake-at-the-crack-of-dawn, I presume that you've solved the case, and I can go home and sleep?

Robert shook his head.  "Sorry partner.  I came here early hoping forensics had moved their tails and finished, but no such luck.  Most of them weren't even here yet; the guy who _was_ said it was too early for them."

It was Harry's turn to laugh.  "That's what you get.  No good deed goes unpunished."

Robert joined in the laughter.  "So, how was your night?"  

Harry grumbled.  "Don't ask."

Robert's eyes lit up.  "Oh, but now I must!  Let me guess, you didn't have a good time?"

"Wow, you're really observant.  You should be an Auror or something."

Robert grinned.  "And judging by the mixed look of irritation, anger, and bitterness, I imagine it had something to do with _her_."

Harry frowned and reminded himself that being an Auror detective for over fifteen years probably taught the old man a trick or two.  He said nothing and sat at his desk.

Robert gave him a look of sympathy, or probably pity.  "Listen Harry, I know it's none of my business, but-"

"You're right, it isn't," Harry snapped, then immediately regretted it.  "I'm sorry Robert, it's just hard, that's all."

Robert frowned at his young partner.  "If you ever want to talk about it…"

Harry nodded his thanks.  "Let's get to work," he said, effectively closing the subject of Dr. Hermione Granger.

*********************************

Harry floo'ed home later that afternoon.  It was a rather fruitless morning at the office, since they were at a standstill until forensics came back.  True, they could still work the case as if it was an isolated incident, but with magical techniques on their side, time wasn't as important a factor as when solving Muggle crimes.  Harry stripped off his Auror robe and settled into his armchair.  He checked the time and sighed heavily: it was still too early for the firewhiskey.  Instead, Harry turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he spotted a football game in progress.  

A loud knocking startled Harry.  He looked around his darkened flat, confused at first before realizing that he must have nodded off.  Harry shook his head, trying clear it of his disorientation, before he got up to answer the door.  

"Hey Ron," Harry said after he opened the door.  He moved aside to let his friend enter.

"Hey Harry.  What have you been doing?  Wallowing in self-pity the whole day?  At least it doesn't stink of firewhiskey in here."

Harry looked at his flat and realized that it _did_ look rather depressing; the entire place was dark except for the television, which provided a flickering glow.  "Oh, nothing like that Ron.  I just fell asleep in front of the television."

"Right Harry," Ron said, his tone clearly conveying his disbelief as he flipped on a light switch.  "Amazing things, this electricity.  Anyways, I've come to rescue you.  Get dressed, we're going out."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked idly as he went to the refrigerator.

"No, it's where are _we_ going.  Ginny and Neville are making dinner tonight.  Yesterday was just a lot of hustle and bustle, and tonight they wanted something more private, just family."  Harry groaned at the thought of a dinner with the Weasleys.  The groan did not go unnoticed by Ron.  "C'mon Harry!  You know we all think of you as family."

Harry didn't respond, rummaging through the fridge for something to drink.  He gave up and reached for the cabinet and found a bottle of firewhiskey.  Ron's eyes narrowed as he snatched the bottle from Harry's hand.  "Hey!" Harry protested.

"Damn it Potter!  What are you going to do, huh?  Spend the rest of the night in another drunken stupor?"

"And what do you want me to do, huh?  You actually think I'll have a good time at Ginny's with your parents and your brothers, knowing that they still blame me for Percy?"

Ron flinched slightly at the name of his older brother, but he didn't back down.  "You know they feel awful about that Harry."  Harry scoffed, and Ron glared at him.  "Listen Potter, if you don't show up at Ginny's, then I swear I will never talk to you ever again, and you can just stay here and drown in your firewhiskey!"

Harry glared right back at Ron, locking eyes for a minute until he finally looked away.  "Fine! I'll go!" he said as Ron smiled.  "But you have to promise that you won't use that 'I'll never talk to you again' line again until next year!"

Ron nodded happily.  "It's a deal.  Now get dressed and let's go.  I want to pick up some wine on the way."

*********************************

Because they had to make a stop at Diagon Alley for wine and a plant (Harry's idea), they couldn't floo to the Longbottom's.  Instead the two apparated (or more accurately, Harry apparated and brought Ron along) to Ginny and Neville's front door.  Ron knocked politely on the door.

"Ron, Harry!  Long time no see," Neville greeted them, ushering them in.  "Oooohh, wine, very nice," he said, taking the bottle and the plant from them.  "Everyone's already out on the patio, and dinner will start in a few minutes."

"Thanks Neville," Ron said and walked through the living room towards the patio door.  Harry smiled his thanks as Neville went off to the kitchen, then he squared his shoulders and followed Ron.

"Ron!  Harry!" he heard several greetings and Harry smiled and nodded politely.  He looked around and saw all the usual suspects in the sea of red hair, along with a few non-redheads that represented significant others.  Harry's eyes narrowed when he spotted a familiar bushy haired head headed in his direction.  He shot a look at Ron, who shrugged guiltily and quickly turned away.  Harry sighed and waited.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said.

"Hi Hermione.  Where's Rick?" he asked, practically spitting out the name of Hermione's boyfriend.

"He couldn't make it, too much work."

Harry tried to look interested.  "Oh, is there much happening in the world of dragons?" 

Hermione nodded.  "Oh yes.  Rick has such a difficult, stressful job, dealing with dragons and it often keeps him working late.  You can't even begin to imagine the things he has to go through!  It's a very difficult and dangerous job but very rewarding, and he's quite good at it," she said with a touch of pride in her voice.

"Yeah, it sure sounds difficult.  Thank Merlin I don't have a difficult job that involves stress or danger.  I mean, Voldemort obviously doesn't compare to a dragon.  He's a real gem," Harry said bitterly.

Hermione paled.  "Oh Harry, I didn't mean to say…that is…" But Harry didn't hear the rest of her words as he walked towards where the twins sat. 

"Hullo Harry," Fred greeted him

"Looks like you need one of these," George said as he offered Harry a bottle of butterbeer.  Harry took it gratefully and took a long drink.

Fred consulted his watch.  "Congratulations Harry!  You spent at least fifteen seconds talking to Hermione!"

George started clapping.  "I think that's a new record!"

Harry shot the two a dirty look.  "I was just surprised to see her, that's all.  Ron didn't tell me that she'd be coming."

"Well, our younger brother knew you wouldn't come if you did," George said.

Fred nodded.  "True, he may not be the brightest candle, but he's not stupid."

Harry found that with their good humor, he could never stay mad while he was around them.  "Agreed, but he can be devious when he wants to be-"

"Dinner's ready!" Ginny's voice carried out to the backyard from within the house.

Fred rubbed his ears.  "She gets that from Mom," he said, standing up.  

"Doesn't even need to use a spell," George chimed in.  Harry chuckled and followed the twins into the house.

*********************************

For Harry, dinner was a slightly uncomfortable affair.  He had absolutely no complaints about the quality of the food, but then again, Harry never had the most distinguishing of taste buds.   Despite being spoiled by the wonderful food at Hogwarts, a decade of living off the scraps the Dursleys grudgingly provided, coupled with his bachelor cooking (consisting mostly of instant dinners which, despite magic, still tasted artificial), left Harry appreciating all home-cooked meals.  Harry sat between Ron and Fred and, unfortunately, across from Hermione.  At least he didn't have to sit near Arthur and Molly.  Harry made polite conversation during dinner, being a master at small talk after years of honing his skills.  He was reasonably sure that he hid his discomfort as well.  Finally, with the clearing of the dessert plates, the painful experience came to a halt.  Harry found Ginny and Neville in the kitchen.

"Wonderful dinner Ginny, absolutely first-rate."

"Thanks Harry," she said, "but Neville helped a lot with the steaks."

"Very nice, Neville.  Look, I hate to run but I have an early day tomorrow; hopefully we'll have a big break on a case.  Tell everyone I said good-bye."

Ginny and Neville looked disappointed, but they seemed to accept his excuse, which was in fact the truth.  Harry exchanged a handshake with Neville and kissed Ginny on the cheek before he returned to the foyer and grabbed his cloak.  He decided to by-pass the floo network and just apparate away, telling himself it would be easier but knowing that he really wanted to avoid saying goodbye to everyone.  Harry walked out the door and was almost to the street when someone called his name.

"Harry!  Wait!"

Harry turned and saw Hermione running out of the house to him.  He grimaced.  "What is it?"

"I…" she faltered slightly.  "We never really got to talk back there."

Harry shrugged, but said nothing.

"So…" Hermione said.  "How are you?"

Harry scowled.  "Listen Hermione, I really don't have the time to stand around outside and exchange pleasantries.  Maybe some other time," he said coldly and turned to walk away.  Hermione grabbed his arms and spun him around.

"Damn you Harry!  Don't you miss me at all?" she cried, tears forming at the edges of her eyes.  "Don't the years that we spent together count for anything?"

For a second, Harry felt the urge to wipe away her tears, hold her in his arms, and take away all her pain - but only for second.  Harry just looked at her.  "No, it's doesn't," he said simply before apparating home.

**Rionarayne**: gift for not putting in too much detail?  I'll take that as a compliment :)

**sethro72**: Harry's already deep into this despair; actually, I think he's moved past it into a tired resignation, feeling as if he has no control over the direction of his life, no chance at love or happiness, so might as well just motor on.  Despair suggests a lot of emotion, but Harry's closed himself off from emotion.  

Will Harry and Hermione be together at the end?  I suppose I shouldn't give it away, but I am a devoted H/Hr shipper, and I love happy endings.

**Facade1**: Rick's not a bad guy, but I don't like him either.  Don't worry, he'll get his in the end!  Or will he?  I guess I haven't decided if Harry should kick his butt or not.

**liseli vanida-kateb**: exams like OWLs?  I hope you get all Outstandings and no Trolls!  

**JT**: I'm being evil, but the confrontation with Hermione will force Harry to remember things next chapter.


	5. Memories of Paradise

**11/14/03: **About Harry and Hermione's past, and the forensics report is done!

**11/17/03**: Updated, added a bit at the end of Harry and Hermione's fight.

**5. Memories of Paradise******

Harry tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.  His confrontation with Hermione outside the Longbottom's had affected him more profoundly then he cared to admit.  After fighting to suppress the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, Harry finally decided to give in.

Harry freely admitted that he had one year of life that was absolutely wonderful.  He was free from responsibility, had everything he ever wanted, and was loved unconditionally.  It was paradise; or at least, Harry imagined so, since he really couldn't be expected to remember how life was as a baby.  Since then, Harry's suffered ten years of misery with the Dursleys, treated as filth, and then another seven years that were only slightly better as the target of a dark wizard, and alternately the hero of the wizarding world one day and it's most ridiculed citizen the next.  With his final defeat of Voldemort, Harry experienced another period of life at its best.  With his friends no longer in danger just by knowing him, Harry finally professed his true feelings for his best friend, Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger.  The sound of her name alone once brought a smile to his face and lifted his heart like nothing else could.  Hermione Granger: best friend and soul mate.  Or so he had once thought.  Throughout their school years, Hermione had always been there, by his side.  It's fitting that their first real interaction together occurred while facing off a mountain troll, given how often they've shared danger and faced death together.  During sixth year, Harry had finally realized his growing feelings for Hermione, sparked by her near fatal encounter in the Department of Mysteries at the end of fifth year.  His guilt of Sirius' death prevented him from understand his changing feelings then, but his final acceptance of Sirius and of the prophecy during sixth year paved the way for him to acknowledge that Hermione was more than just his best friend.

Their two years together were blissful (Harry had needed a year to muster his courage to reveal his feelings to her).  They were both in training, Harry to be an Auror and Hermione at St. Mungo's.   They shared a little flat in London, cozy and warm, living off of their combined incomes, as Harry wanted to save his inheritance for when they were married.  Together they went about life happily, living as normal a life as a couple in love can when one of them is the savior of the wizarding world.  Harry was happy; he had finally found love and acceptance, and he was looking forward to all the little Harry's and Hermione's that would someday be running underfoot.  And he thought Hermione was happy too.

*********************************

One night, Harry returned from work to the flat they rented, slightly limping.  "Honey, I'm home," he called out, enjoying this little bit of domesticity.  It was rare that the two would _both_ be home by dinnertime, given their jobs, so Harry savored the moments when they occurred.

"Hi Harry, did you have a goo – what happened?"  Hermione cried out upon seeing Harry's limping form.

He shrugged.  "A suspect got a little testy.  Just a scratch really."

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly.  "Owl post for you is on the counter.  Go sit," she ordered while walking to their bedroom.  Harry grabbed the mail and settled himself in his armchair.  She returned moments later with her medical bag.  "Let's take look then," she said, kneeling before him and rolling up his pants leg.

Harry riffled through the mail while Hermione did her magic, literally.  One of the many advantages to dating Dr. Hermione Granger was the free medical service.   Harry was engrossed in a letter when he heard sniffling.  "Hermione?  Is everything okay?"  he asked, looking down at her.  She nodded but didn't look up.  "Hermione, look at me," he asked.  She looked up, and Harry saw the tears fresh on her face.  "Hermione," he said soothingly, "it's only a scratch.  It's no big deal."

Hermione surprised him by springing to her feet.  "This time," she said softly.  "But what about next time?"

Harry looked at her curiously.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean what happens the next time a suspect gets '_testy_?'  What happens when it's more than just a leg wound?  What happens when you get hit with a killing curse?"

"It's been done before," Harry said lightly, indicating his scar.  But he saw that Hermione wasn't amused in the slightest.  "Hey, listen," he said, carefully rising to his feet and walking to her.  "Nothing's going to happen to me.  After Voldemort, this is a piece of cake."

She pulled away from him.  "When does it end Harry?"

"When does what end?"

"The danger!  You being hurt!  Why do you have to be an Auror?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows.  "It's who I am, Hermione.  You know that I've always wanted to be an Auror, ever since fifth year."

"But haven't you done enough already?  You defeated Voldemort and saved the wizarding world!  You deserve a break from fighting evil!"

"What are you saying? You want me to quit being an Auror?"

"Yes!" she cried.  "I…I hoped with Voldemort gone we could finally have a normal life!  I hate always being worried about you Harry, staying up late at night hoping you won't get killed, afraid that every time an Auror is brought into St. Mungo's that it's you!  You can do anything you want Harry; you don't have to be an Auror!"

"And what do you want me to be?" Harry said, his voice rising.  "Go work as a paper-pusher in the ministry?  Sell flowers in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, if it means your life won't be in danger!"

"This is who I am, Hermione," Harry repeated.  "I fight evil, defend those who can't defend themselves; it says so on my Chocolate Frog card.  And I'm good at it, too.  Almost everyday some witch or wizard stops me in the street and tells me they feel safer with me as an Auror.  What would people think if the Great Harry Potter decided all of a sudden to work at Gringott's?"

"I don't care what other people think!  What about me, Harry?  Don't you care about what I think?  Every day since we've known each other I've worried about you, about your safety.  I'm sick and tired of waking up each morning afraid that you won't be coming home at night!"" Hermione cried.  Then she grew quiet.  "We hardly ever see each other anymore.  You spend all your time at work, on one case after another."

"That's my _job_ Hermione!"

"It's more that a job Harry, it's like your personal quest to rid the world of evil!  You don't have to do everything yourself."  Harry didn't respond, remaining quiet.  "We never go out anymore, we never have fun anymore." Hermione said sadly.  "Listen Harry, I have a week of vacation saved up.  Let's go somewhere, just the two of us?" she pleaded.  "We can go somewhere warm and lounge on a beach somewhere and make love under the stars."

Harry shook his head.  "You know I can't take time off right now.  I have three open cases and another about to go before the Wizengamot-"

"There are other Auror out there who can take your cases Harry!  You deserve, no, _we_ deserve some time together.  That job is ruining our lives, it's changing you.  You always come home sullen and angry about one thing or another, and all we ever talk about is work.  You're not the same Harry I knew at Hogwarts."

"Not the same?" Harry asked incuriously.  "You mean not the same sniveling little whiner who was always afraid of his own shadow?  The same Harry Potter who never stood up for himself and let other people control his life?  Believe me Hermione, I'm forever grateful that I'm _not_ the same Harry Potter!"

Hermione shook her head desperately.  "But don't you see?  You were _never_ any of those things!  You were sweet and kind and compassionate and-"

"Bah!" Harry said angrily, turning away in frustration.  "This is who I am, Hermione.  I have to be true to myself," he said quietly.

After a long silence, Hermione spoke.  "Then I have to be true to myself as well.  And the truth is I can't take anymore of this.  I don't we're going to work out."

*********************************

The period of time afterwards had been horrible, comparable to his worst at Hogwarts.  Ron was supportive to point, as he really couldn't take sides between his best friends.  Harry didn't begrudge him that and was thankful for him just being there.  At first, Harry firmly believed that after a few months apart and time to think about what had happened, he and Hermione would eventually get back together.  Maybe Harry would have come to terms with his own identity and given up being an Auror; maybe Hermione would have accepted his job and come to terms with her own fears; or maybe Ron would have sat the two of them down and yelled at them until they regained their senses.  The reason was immaterial; Harry knew that they still loved each other deeply, and surely love was enough? 

But then, only a month later, Percy Weasley was implicated in a crime, and the wedge between Harry and Arthur and Molly Weasley and been formed.  Ron was further conflicted, with his own brother and family complicating his loyalties.  Harry never lost faith in his last remaining best friend, but they weren't close during those months, and Ron would never have that opportunity to talk to his two best friends about their failed relationship.  His surrogate family being shattered, and so close to the break-up with Hermione, sent Harry spiraling downward into a deep depression, shutting everyone out and immersing himself into his work.  Harry felt completely alone, trapped into his life by the scar he bore on his forehead.  Harry never was able to have that honest discussion with Hermione.  She was gone, all her things packed and moved away a month later.  Harry's world returned to its previous state, of paradise lost.

*********************************

Harry awoke the next morning with a sense of purpose.  Thinking of Hermione wasn't helping anything, least of all the Campbells.  Harry took a long shower, symbolically washing himself of the emotions he felt last night, and then quickly dressed for work.  Harry flooed to the Ministry and headed for the Bullpen, eager to arrive, for today he would find out if the Campbells were an isolated incident or part of some grander scheme.

"Well?  Well?" he asked excitedly to Robert as soon as he entered the Bullpen.  Robert only shook his head, looking up from a parchment.

"No word yet.  The report's been done for hours, but I think it's being run through channels.  I haven't seen it yet, anyways.  The Cap'n said he'd let us know.  Sit awhile and cool your heels."

Harry nodded dejectedly and then sat down.  Typical bureaucracy.  Having nothing better to do, Harry picked up the Daily Prophet and filled through its pages.  After two hours, while Harry was engrossed in the crossword puzzle, Captain Perry finally emerged from his office.  "Toms, Potter, let's go.  You too, Price and Clarke.  We're going to Conference Room B."  Harry and Robert traded confused and curious looks with Darren Price and Nick Clarke, fellow detectives.  The four followed their captain to the conference room, and Harry entered to find that there were other people there already.

"Tonks!  Shacklebolt!"  Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing near the door, and the three exchanged pleasant greetings.  Though Harry had followed them into the same profession, he did not work with either of the old Order members.  

The disastrous term of Cornelius Fudge and the way he was able to exercise control over the Aurors, as well as the incompetence of other related departments revealed the need to re-organize the entire MLE, more commonly known as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  But the real trigger of change was the political scandal that Harry had uncovered, the one that resulted in Percy spending a decade of his life in a minimum-security prison.  The biggest problem, a study had shown, was that the Auror Division was the most prestigious part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, meaning that the best and brightest became Aurors.  This, of course, was good for Aurors, but it also meant that the other divisions - Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, the Improper Use of Magic, etc. – were seen as less than sub par, and attracted a much lower caliber of candidates.  In fact, the Hit Wizard squads generally consisted of thugs and brutes.  Although an occasional diamond could be found among the rough (like Arthur Weasley in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office), for the most part bright students who were rejected from the Auror division for lack of space generally found jobs outside the Ministry, rather than in any of the other departments

So, in move of sweeping changes, the entire Department was re-organized.  Now, everyone was considered as an Auror (mostly a public relations move).   Four divisions were formed: Crime and Investigations, Muggle Crimes, Forensics, and Surveillance and Intelligence.  All four divisions interacted frequently with each other, and all four departments worked cases that involved Muggles (for instance, Harry had worked on a small robbery case that would have normally been under responsibility of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office).  Muggle Crimes was the smallest, as there weren't that many crimes against magicals perpetrated by Muggles.  Crime and Investigations, of which Harry was a part of, was the largest, consisting of patrolmen, detectives, and revamped hit wizard squads.  Tonks was in the Surveillance and Intelligence Division, or a fancy way of saying that she was a spy (given her Metamorphagus abilities, Harry thought it was a perfect fit), and Shacklebolt was Chief of S&I, reporting directly to Amelia Bones, Head of the Department.

Charles Kaye, Chief of C&I, was also in the conference room, and Harry and Robert made their manners.  Harry also spotted the Chief of Forensics, Dr. Rich Garcia, also there along with the forensics officer that Harry had dragged out to the crime scene.  Even the Chief of MC was there, along with Ambassador Woods from the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  Whatever was going on, whatever was in that forensics report, it was _big_.  Harry's suspicions were confirmed when Amelia Bones herself entered the room.

**A/N**: Although it's only been two days, I feel like I should apologize for updating late shrug.  I seem to be suffering from a lack of motivation right now.  I suppose that my writing frenzy (posting a total of 128 thousand words in a little over two months) is starting to catch up with me.  Hopefully a nice, relaxing weekend and some golf (supposed to be in the upper 40's!) will recharge the batteries.

Hopefully my break-up of Harry and Hermione was somewhat believable.   I think only three things could come between them: 

1) Harry's fame, but that's more of a nuisance, really.

2) Harry's jealousy.  Yes, he's not jealous in canon, but I figure after the life he's lead, he'd be pretty insecure about being loved, so he'd be irrationally jealous when Hermione talks to other men.  But I decided not to use it because _that_ issue could be a chapter in itself.

3) Hermione wanting a normal life.  Of course, if Harry picked a safe occupation it wouldn't be an issue.

**Calen**: hehe sorry, but I am a sucker for a happy ending.  Harry's too disgusted with the whole scar/fame thing that the witches who throw themselves at him disgust him. 

**Funkie Star**: Hope everything works out for you okay.  As I told Calen, I like happy endings.

**onkel**: I suppose after living through such serious times with Harry, Rick provides a nice distraction, someone without a lot of angst or responsibility.  They haven't been going out too long.

**HeeroTomoe**: yah, Harry can be pretty cold when he wants to be.  **SPOILER**: Remember in OOTP when he lied to Ron and Hermione about his dream and said he was dreaming that he was watching Ron play Quidditch and was urging Ron to reach "just a bit farther" for the Quaffle?  I thought Harry was pretty hilarious at times in the latest book.

**sethro72**: yah, Harry feels pretty hopeless then his life will improve (and can you blame him?), so he doesn't bother to try and change things.  He does keep his work to himself, not wishing to burden his problems on other people.  Besides, he really only has Ron as a true confident (the twins and Gin aren't on the same level), and he doesn't want to do anything to risk that.

**Facade1**: I dunno if I'll have a Rick vs. Harry scene.  It really serves no purpose except that it'd be pretty cool.  Thoughts?  Anyone?

**ears91**: Well, we all know Hermione hasn't thought the best of her looks, and though Harry used to tell her that she's beautiful all the time, she just thinks he's being Harry.  When Rick started to pay attention to her, she was very flattered and, like I said to onkel, she subconsciously views him as a break from the emotional rollar-coaster that is Harry Potter.  Natalie McDonald is a Gryffindor a couple of years younger than Gin, I believe.  Here's a quote from the HP Lexicon about her: 

"Natalie's name comes from a Canadian girl who was very sick. She loved the Harry Potter books and contacted JKR. The author wrote her and told her some of the secrets of the books to come, but Natalie had died by the time the letter arrived. Natalie's mother responded and she and JKR have since become friends. Jo put Natalie in GF, sorted into Gryffindor, as a tribute. (story originally appeared in the Toronto Globe and Mail)"

**JT**: hehe.  Well, Hermione still has feelings for Harry no matter what, and she's hurt by his cold behavior.  Harry has feelings for Hermione too, but they're buried under a lot of emotional scar tissue.


	6. A Tangled Web

**11/17/03:  **Here is a slightly longer-then-normal length chapter, at least for me.  Note that I changed Chapter 5 a bit, added some to the end of Hermione and Harry's fight.  It's only a few lines of dialogue, so check it out.

**6. ****A Tangled Web**

"Everyone here?" Amelia asked without preamble.  Nods and murmurs of assent answered.  "Let's get started then," she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.  The four Chiefs and their administrative assistants took seats along the table, along with Ambassador Woods.  Everyone else, Harry included, took chairs along the wall, knowing they would be called on if necessary.

Amelia looked around until everyone had settled.  "Alright.  Chief Kaye, you called the meeting, you start it off."

Chief Kaye nodded.  "If you're agreeable, I'll let Captain Perry start it off."  Amelia nodded, and the Chief gestured to Captain Perry.  

The Captain cleared his throat and stood.  "Late Friday, just before the last shift change, a call came in for a triple homicide.  It was Potter and Toms' turn on the wheel, so they were sent out.  When they-"

"Ah," Amelia interrupted.  "Potter.  No wonder.  _That _explains why we're all here," she said with a slight smile, looking at Harry.  Harry flushed slightly.  He had always been on good terms with Madam Bones from the first time they met when he had come before the Wizengamot, and they had shared lunch a few times since Harry became an Auror.  Harry was also a classmate of Amelia's niece, Susan, and Amelia had offered to set them up a few times after his relationship with Hermione had ended. 

"Continue." Amelia said, turning her attention back to Captain Perry.

"Yes, well," the Captain stammered a bit, clearly thrown off his timing by Amelia's interruption.  "The victims were Mr. and Mrs. Don and Laura Campbell and their daughter Melanie.  Anyways, it initially looked like a Muggle was responsible for the homicides and a case for MC, who was called in as well.  But Toms and Potter suspected magical involvement, a cover-up by a magical, and they requested the participation of forensics."

"'Requested the participation of forensics?'" Amelia repeated.  She turned to Dr. Garcia.  "Does that imply that forensics was not on the scene?"  

Dr. Garcia fidgeted slightly in his chair.  "Well, um, you see, forensics at the time was, er," Dr. Garcia flustered.

Amelia stared hard at him before deciding to give him a brief reprieve.  "That's enough, Rich, I won't force you to lie.  Meet with me after the meeting and we'll address this."  An uncomfortable silence filled the room.  "Continue," she said again, looking at Captain Perry.

"Um, yes.  Well, at this point I'll turn it over to Detectives Toms and Potter to update the results of their investigation thus far."  Captain Perry sat down and looked at Robert.

Robert stood.  "Unfortunately we haven't found much.  The report of the clean-up crew came up empty-"

"The clean-up crew was there, on time?" Amelia interrupted.  Robert nodded.  "At least the Department of Magical Catastrophes is on the ball," she said, looking pointedly at Dr. Garcia.  "Continue Detective Toms."

Robert nodded.  "Yes Madame Bones.  The clean-up crew report indicated nothing magical was out-of-place, and the initial reports of the MC and forensics shed no light on the motive of the crime or on any possible suspects.  We interviewed the employer of Mr. Campbell and found nothing of interest yet.  A trip to Imagery also proved fruitless.  That's all we have so far."

Amelia nodded and Robert sat down.  At this point in the investigation, the details really weren't that important to her, and Amelia made it a point to _not_ micromanage her Aurors, at least not so early in a case.  She looked over at Dr. Garcia again.  "What has Forensics found?"

Harry leaned forward, interested in what Dr. Garcia had to say.  "Detectives Toms and Potter were correct.  A thorough investigation revealed that all three Campbells were killed initially by magic, a high-powered stun at close range, enough to stop the heart, and then shot with a Muggle firearm.  We took it upon ourselves to examine similar cases involving Muggles perpetrators to see if this had happened before," Dr. Garcia said, neglecting to mention that Robert had made that particular request.  Harry looked over at Robert and decided that he would let that slide, knowing that Dr. Garcia was in trouble as it was.  "We worked with MC," Dr. Garcia said, gesturing towards Chief Casey, "to find suspicious cases on which to test.  We found two others that had the same M.O."

Harry gasped slightly.  While he suspected that they were looking for a magical, not a Muggle, he didn't really think there were other cases.  This perhaps explained why all four Chiefs were in the room.

Chief Casey chimed in.  "That's correct.  We identified several unsolved cases in which a Muggle was suspected of killing a magical and turned them over to forensics."

Amelia nodded.  "Okay then.  That explains why three of my four departments are involved.  Chief Shacklebolt, what's your connection?"

Kingsley looked at Amelia.  "One of the suspected cases involved the murder of an undercover Auror."  Harry's eyes snapped up at this information, and he traded a surprised and angry look with Robert.

Amelia was also surprised.  "An Auror?  What was he working on?"

"Auror Verplank was investigating Malvagita," Shacklebolt said simply.

Gasps came from around the room and Harry shook his head; the surprises were getting to be too much.  Malvagita was the name of a suspected Dark Wizard, a Voldemort pretender, thought to be currently located in the States somewhere.  'Thought to be' was the key phrase, since his actual existence has never been confirmed.  Or denied.  This was more than big; this was huge.  Harry looked up; Malvagita's possible involvement explained Ambassador Woods' presence. 

Amelia sat stonily.  "And the other victim?"

Chief Kaye answered.  "A wizard who worked for a small manufacturing company.  Detective Price was the lead detective on that case, and Detective Clarke was the lead detective on the Verplank murder," he said, indicating the other two C&I Aurors.

Amelia nodded, then sighed.  "And Ambassador Woods?"

"I called him.  If Malvagita is responsible, we will most likely have to work in conjunction with the American ministry to find him," Chief Kay said.

"That's Department of Magic; they don't call it a ministry over there," Woods corrected gently.  "Chief Kaye called me this morning, and I have made contact with their Ambassador letting them know we might require their help, if these cases are indeed linked with Malvagita."

Amelia nodded. "Alright then.  Recommendations?"

The four Chiefs looked at one another before Chief Kaye spoke.  "We recommend that C&I take overall responsibility; given the three murder cases."  Harry looked over at Chief Shacklebolt, who bristled but did not object.  "Detective Toms will take lead, and work closely with S&I on the Malvagita angle.  We will keep Ambassador Woods up-to-date and bring him in if necessary."

Amelia looked to think that one over for a bit.  "Alright Chief, I'll leave it to you then.  I want this to be our number one priority, understand?  No one kills an Auror and gets away with it," she said in a steely voice.  She fixed each of her Chiefs in her stare before she stood abruptly and left without a word.

Chief Kaye stood after the door had closed.  "Toms, you're in charge.  You get Potter, Price, and Clarke; let me know if you need additional support.  Auror Tonks was working with Verplank when he was killed, so she's on the team as well.  Forensics and MC brought all their files with them; you need anything, just ask for it.  If you're getting push back, just let one of the Chiefs know and we'll take care of it.  This room is yours for the rest of the day.  Good luck."

And with that, all four Chiefs, their assistants, and Ambassador Woods left the room, leaving a rather shell-shocked set of detectives.  After a moment, Robert stood.  "Well, okay then."  He looked around the room at the other Aurors.  "I'm hoping this is the first that we've _all _heard about this?" he asked.  Nods greeted his statement, and he sighed in relief.  "Good, then we're all in the same place: behind.   Let's get started by going around and reviewing each of our cases.  Darren, why don't you start?"

Price stood.  "Alright.  The victim, Ernie Mediate, was a manager over at General Magics.  He was the day manager of the Transfiguration division in their appliances department.  He was-"

"Wait a minute!" Robert and Harry said at the same time.  "Did you say appliances?"

Price nodded.  "That's right.  He was in-charge of their Transfiguration division for appliances, dishwashers and stuff."

"There could be something there," Harry mused.  

Robert nodded.  "Our guy was a manager at Magical Solutions.  They sell appliances.  Do you recall seeing their name as one of General Magics' customers?"

Price shook his head.  "No, but that doesn't mean there isn't a connection.  We didn't search through GM's customer list or anything since we thought it was a Muggle killing."

Robert nodded.  "Alright then, let's remember that for later.  GO on."

"Okay.  Well, unfortunately there's not a whole lot more.  Mediate was single, no priors, well liked and respected by his employees.  He's pureblood and went to a small magical academy in the south of England.  Once we established, or should say, wrongly established that it was a Muggle perp, we turned it over to MC."

Harry nodded.  Though part of him was still uneasy with distinguishing between purebloods and others, he knew that it was important to know: they could now rule out pureblood superiority as a motive.

"Okay.  Tonks?  Nick?" Robert asked after Price sat down.  Clarke and Tonks looked at each other briefly.  They apparently decided that Tonks should start.

"Auror Verplank was working undercover, trying to infiltrate Malvagita's organization in the UK.  He-"

"Does he really exist?" Price interrupted.

Tonks looked thoughtful.  "Most likely he exists.  Either he exists, or he's a creation, a figurehead, for a new generation of dark wizards rallying under his name.  Our problem is that no one's ever seen him in person, so we don't have a physical description.  But regardless of whether or not Malvagita is one wizard or many wizards, the fact remains that his organization is very real."  

Price nodded, so Tonks continued.  "Like most dark wizards, including Grindelwald and You-Know-Who, Malvagita has a bias against Muggleborns and Muggles.  He believes in the cleansing of the wizarding race.  Our operatives had heard some rather disturbing news that Malvagita has a plan to effectively wipe out all wizards with Muggle blood."  Tonks paused here, to allow the information to sink in.  "Verplank had successfully infiltrated the edges of his organization.  Given the nature of the new information, we ordered him to see if he could find anything out about Malvagita's plan.  When his body was found, we thought perhaps someone in Malvagita's organization thought he was asking too many questions.  Then C&I determined that a Muggle killed him, but now it seems we're back to the original theory."  Tonks finished and sat down.

Harry thought about everything he had just heard.  There had to be some connection between the three murders, and the obvious one so far was the connection between the Campbells and Mediate.  Harry hoped that they would find that Magical Solutions carried General Magics appliances and that Mediate and Campbell knew each other somehow.  He wasn't sure how to fit in the Malvagita angle.  What possible interest would the latest dark wizard have in two working-class wizards, one of whom was a pureblood?

Robert cleared his throat, bringing Harry's attention back to the table.  "Okay.  Here's the plan: the rest of the day we're going to go over the files MC and forensics brought, and brainstorm a bit.  Tomorrow, we're going to switch things up a bit.  Harry and I will go visit Mediate's place of work, looking for a connection to Campbell.  Clarke, you and your partner go visit Magical Solutions and do the same, find a connection.  Price will go over the Verplank files with Tonks.  Agreed?"  There were no objections or questions, and the five Aurors tackled the large stack of files in front of them.

**A/N: **I had a nice weekend, saw Matrix and played golf on Friday.  I liked Matrix, even though the ending left me wanting more.  People complained that not enough time was spent _in_ the Matrix, but I liked the real world.  I won't say anything to spoil it, but ten minutes of epilogue would be nice, though I'm sure that's how they wanted it to end.  The cynical part of me thinks part of the reason they ended it like that was for Matrix Online.

As I noted above, I added some to Chapter 5.  The way it was before it made it seem like it was all Hermione.  But really, Harry had a part in the break-up besides not wanting to quit.  I tried to make it seem like he was _obsessed _with his job, and that his obsession created problems in their relationship.

**szelij**: Amelia is head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, like in the books.  I haven't found the right place talk about Harry's Quidditch.  It's no big deal actually.

**Facade1**: hehe, Rick's no secret spy, just someone fun for Hermione.

**anne**: Don't worry, there'll be fluff in the future, but we have to get through all the angsty bits first.

**Just Visiting **and **sethro72 **and **JT**: Rick's job isn't terribly dangerous as long as everything's done correctly, but it's exotic and very interesting.  Besides, Hermione does like a little excitement in her life, but Harry's job was becoming too much.  Your reviews made me think about that, so I changed Chapter 5 to reflect how his job affected his personality as well.


	7. Hopeless

**11/19/03:  **Ron and Harry have a talk.  Consider this as a long chapter for me.

**7. Hopeless******

Harry flung the last file of parchments onto the stack in mock triumph, arms raised in the air.  "Yes!  All done!"  He looked around at the other Aurors and found none were as amused with his antics as he was.  Old farts.  Harry stood and stretched, rubbing his lower back that somehow became sore from the arduous task of sitting.  Harry looked over at Robert.  "We've been through these files twice already.   We haven't found anything new that we didn't know before.  Let's call it a night, and tomorrow we'll hit the streets."

"I agree!" Tonks said cheerfully.  "I've been reading the same lines over and over again for the past twenty minutes."

Clarke chuckled.  "That's better than me.  I've only been pretending!"

Price reached over and hit him on the head with a rolled up parchment, which resulting in a retaliatory strike.  "Alright boys," Tonks said pleasantly, "break it up."

"Well, I think that proves our effectiveness is effectively no more," Harry said with a wry smile.  

"Okay, okay, I get the picture.  Let's clean up and get out of here," Robert said with a grin.  The five Aurors tidied up their stacks of parchment and walked them over to the bullpen.

Upon entering the bullpen, Tonks wrinkled her nose in mock distaste.  "You boys sure know how to keep a place clean.  Whatever is that _delightful_ smell?  Ode d'Auror?"

Harry chuckled.  "This coming from someone in S&I…isn't Scourgify the first spell you learn in S&I to get rid of the stink of hiding in sewers all day spying on people?"

Tonks waved her hand airily.  "Perhaps for the lesser Aurors; for someone as talented as I, sewers are not necessary."  To make her point, Tonks used her metamorphagus skills to re-arrange her face, making her nose and chin ridiculously long.  The other Aurors broke up in laughter.

"Aye, you blend right in there…looks completely natural," Clarke said when he managed to regain his breath.

With their moods lightened somewhat, the five Aurors made their way back to the entrance of the Ministry.  "It's really good to see you again Tonks," Harry said as the two hugged.  "It'll be nice to work together."

"Yes it will," Tonks said after they broke away, then she grinned.  "We should have an Order reunion!  We already know where Kingsley is," she said.

Harry chuckled.  "Yeah, maybe.  Good night Tonks.  Good night guys.  See you in the morning."  Harry waved his good-bye's, and then floo'ed home.

*********************************

Although he had floo'ed home countless times before, there was something particularly depressing about coming home this time.  Harry stood in his living room and looked around his tiny flat.  Neither he nor Hermione had wanted the two bedroom flat they had shared, and Harry had quickly found a much smaller place to live.  In the glow of the diminishing sunlight, Harry was struck by the realization of just how impersonal his flat looked.  The only thing that reflected a personality was his reclining chair, the one thing he kept from his previous life with Hermione.

Hermione.  It was her fault.  Harry had been happy, well, not happy, but perhaps satisfied with his life until Hermione decided to confront him last night.  And now, despite it going against every fiber of his being, Harry craved human contact: he didn't want to spend the evening alone in his depressing little flat getting pissed on firewhiskey.  Harry reached over and grabbed a handful of floo powder.  He flung it into the fireplace and called out loudly, "Ronald Weasley!"  Harry watched the flames flare up and turn green before sitting in his favorite armchair.  Harry was watching the evening news when Ron's head popped in his fireplace. 

"Hey Harry," he said cheerily.  "Home already?"

Harry got up and sat before the fireplace.  "Yeah, they let us out early because tomorrow's gonna be a full day.  You still at work?"

Ron's head bobbled.  "Got an hour or so before closing."

"Have you eaten yet?  Wanna grab a bite somewhere?"

Ron eyebrows furrowed in concern.  "Why?  What happened?  Is everything okay?"

Harry chuckled.  "What?  Can't a guy invite his best mate out for dinner without some threat looming over the horizon?"

Ron laughed.  "Actually, no, but I suppose there can always a first time.  C'mon by in an hour and we can grab something nearby."

Harry groaned.  "I'm starving!  Is it busy at the store?"

Ron shook his head.  "It's Monday.  It's rarely busy on a Monday night."

"Alright then," Harry said with a smile.  "Close up early and let's go!  I give you my permission."

"Well, I suppose in a round-about way you are my boss.  You gonna clear it with the twins?"

Harry nodded.  "If they give you flack, just send them my way."

"Okay.  C'mon over then whenever you're ready," Ron said, and then his head disappeared from the fire.

*********************************

After Harry changed out of his Auror robes and into something more casual, he apparated over to Ron's store, figuring that if he had the skill, why not use it?  Apparition in and out of the Ministry of Magic was prevented by a number of protective wards (though Harry privately believed he could still do it), so use of the floo network was required.  For almost all other trips, Harry preferred to apparate: much quicker, less fuss, and less mess.  

Harry popped into existence in front of the check-out counter, causing the young witch behind the counter to yelp in surprise.

"Sorry about that Elizabeth," Harry said sheepishly as the witch regained her breath, her hand clutching her chest.  "Is the boss around?"

"No problem Mr. Potter.  Mr. Weasley's in the back, I'll go get him," she said with a smile.  Harry had tried on countless occasions to convince the teenager to call him Harry, but someone had instilled a sense of propriety in her that was too strong to break.  Harry browsed the shelves while waiting for 'Mr.' Weasley. 

With the success of Fred and George's joke shop, the twins (after consulting with Harry) decided to open a store in Hogsmeade.  It was something they've wanted to do for some time, but they knew the competition of Zonko's would make things difficult, and they felt some lingering loyalty towards the shop for providing them with their supplies during their Hogwart's years.  Recently though, Mr. Zonko decided to retire, and remembering two of his most prolific customers, he let Fred and George know.  He even sold them his space in Hogsmeade at a reduced price.  

Fred and George were, of course, excited about opening another store, but they soon found that their now flagship store in Diagon Alley, combined with the time they spent inventing new items, prevented them from giving the attention that the Hogsmeade store demanded.  They recruited Ron from his mediocre job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports (which he was disappointed to learn consisted mostly of paperwork and not actually _playing_ the games) to run the new store, which he has done fabulously thus far.

"Harry!" Ron cried, causing Harry to turn from the latest inventions.

"Hi Ron.  Ready?"

Ron nodded and turned to Elizabeth.  "We're closing early today Lizzie."

"Really Mr. Weasley?" the girl asked, excited.

"Really, but don't worry, you'll still get paid for the full day.  Now, let's lock this place up."  Harry helped Ron and Elizabeth to tidy up a bit, and then together they cast a few simple security charms around the store; complicated charms weren't necessary in Hogsmeade.  "Where to?"

"Did Michael's new restaurant finally open?"

Ron snorted.  "You mean Michael's Corner?  Yeah.  Why?  Do you wanna try it?" he asked incredulously.

"Don't give me that look Ron.  And is that really what he named it?  Urgh!  I thought you were just kidding!" Harry replied as the two friend started to walk down the street.  As they walked, Harry got the typical stares and whispers from being the Boy-Who-Lived.  But he was used to it and paid it no mind.

Ron sighed in mock sadness.  "Unfortunately no, that's the real name.  I hear it's pretty good though; Lizzie went by for lunch the other day."

"You know she doesn't like it when you call her that," Harry chided gently.

Ron shrugged nonchalantly and smiled broadly.  "I pay her salary, so I can call her whatever I want."

Harry shook his head at his best friend.  "Ah, here we are," he said.  Michael's Corner was a new restaurant in Hogsmeade, on the corner across from Gladrag's.  From the outside it looked like a nice, cozy restaurant.  Harry and Ron walked through the outdoor patio seating area and into the building.

"Hmm, I wonder if a Ravenclaw owns this place," Harry mused sarcastically.  The inside was decorated liberally in blue and bronze, with paintings and photographs of eagles flying about on the walls.  One wall of the building was covered in photographs.  Harry walked over while Ron waited for the hostess to examine them: they were group shots of graduating classes of Ravenclaws, going back at least 50 years by the looks of things.  Harry whistled softly, wondering where Michael had managed to find some of the older photographs.

"Ron, good to see you!" he heard a voice say, and Harry turned around.  Michael Corner was weaving his way through the tables towards Ron, where he gave him a hearty handshake.  Harry walked up to him.  "Harry!  Harry Potter!" Michael cried in surprise.  "It's good to see you again mate!"  Harry sighed softly at Michael's impromptu announcement as all heads turned to look in his direction.

"It's good to see you too Michael," Harry said.  "Nice place you got here.  Is it okay if two Gryffindors get a little something to eat?"  Harry saw that the entrance to the restaurant was becoming rather full as word spread that Harry Potter was in the restaurant.

Michael chuckled.  "I'm sure we'll have room.  I'll just kick out a few of the Slytherins," he said with a smile.  Harry noticed his eyes light up when he noticed the growing crowd behind them.  Ron and Harry followed Michael to a table and sat down.  "Someone will be by in a minute.  I'll see you guys later."

True to his word, a few seconds after Michael left to schmooze with the newest diners, a waiter came by with water and menus.  After a moment to peruse the menus, they ordered their appetizers and meals.  After some rather mundane conversation around work and non-Quidditch sports (working at the Department of Magical Games and Sports exposed Ron to many other sports, including Muggle ones), Ron evidently decided that enough was enough.

"Alright Harry, what's going on?" he asked as he twirled some fettuccine around his fork.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why the interest in eating out?  I usually have to drag you kicking and screaming to go out in public."

Harry shrugged.  "I just felt like…going out tonight."

"Right," Ron drawled.  "This sudden urge to go out wouldn't have anything to do with last night, now would it?"

Harry stiffened before taking another bite from of eggplant.  "Last night?" he asked innocently after swallowing.

Ron laughed.  "You know, for an Auror you're not a very convincing liar!"

Harry glared at him before chuckling.  "That's probably why I'm not in S&I."

"So…last night?"

Harry was silent for a minute, deciding on how to respond.  Finally, he shrugged.  "I had a…talk, with Hermione last night."

Ron nodded.  "And?"

"And…it didn't go very well."

Ron snorted.  "Well, that much was obvious."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all you should have said goodbye, but I can understand.  Second, we were all in the living room when all of sudden she went running out the door without any explanation.  When she came back ten minutes later, it was clear she had been crying.  She left soon afterwards without telling me what happened.  What did you guys talk about?"

Harry put down his fork and looked down.  "She confronted me about how I've been ignoring her all this time.  I…I said some pretty mean things to her, basically told her that everything we've been through in the past meant nothing to me now," Harry said miserably.

Ron looked shocked.  "Harry…"

"Oh, don't give me that look Ron," Harry snapped.  "You of all people should know what I've been through these past years, what she meant to me!"  Harry then felt immediately ashamed for yelling at Ron.  He propped his elbows on the table (manners be damned!) and hid his face behind his hands.  After a moment of silence, Harry's muffled voice could be heard.  "I hate that bastard."

"What?  Which bastard?"

Harry opened his fingers so he could peer out at Ron.  "Rick.  I hate that bastard.  He's boring, crass and has a big mouth."  Harry dropped his hands to the table and leaned heavily against the back of his chair.  "And I've never been more jealous of anyone in my life."

"Harry, you know that if anyone else heard you say that, they would think you're crazy.  I mean, you're Harry Potter!"  Harry gave Ron a look.  "Okay, okay," Ron said, raising his palms in defeat.  "Wrong tactic."

Harry sighed heavily.  "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

Ron looked at him quizzically.  "What do you mean?"

"You know, in ten years, what's your life like?  Are you married, kids?  Still working with your brothers?"

Ron shrugged, obviously confused about the sudden change in topic and wondering where this was going.  "I suppose.  I can see myself at WWW for a long time; I like working there, dealing with the Hogwarts kids and telling stories of the old times," he said, quickly warming to the subject.  "I don't think I want as many kids as my parents had, but maybe four or five would be nice.  Another generation of red-headed Gryffindors," he finished with a smile.

Harry gave a rueful laugh.  "That sounds nice.  Do you know where I see myself?"  Ron shook his head.  "Exactly where I am now: alone, living in a tiny one bedroom flat, working on a never-ending pile of cases, and being a burden on my best friend with no hope of changing things."

"You're not a burden, Harry.  Me 'n the missus would love to have you over."  Harry chuckled; Ron always had a way of making him laugh.  "Seriously though, Harry," Ron continued, "you'll find someone.  If not Hermione, though I still have faith in you two, there's a witch out there for you somewhere."

Harry shook his head.  "I doubt it Ron.  Hermione was the only witch who saw me for me, not for my scar.  Even the girls in our class at Hogwarts don't see the real me.  I often think that…"

"That what?"

"That the only place I'll find someone is in the Muggle world."  Ron looked scandalized.  "No really Ron.  Out there, I can be me, the real me, Harry Potter. Only…"

Ron sighed.  "Really Harry, you _must_ finish your sentences.  Only what?"

"Only, is there anything behind the scar? I mean, you take away the scar, the job, the evil-fighting, and what's left?  For the past thirteen years my life has been dominated by good versus evil.  Without that, what am I?  _Is_ there anything _except_ for the scar?" 

Ron fidgeted in his chair and opened his mouth as if to speak a few times, but said nothing.  Harry noticed his discomfort.  "I'm sorry Ron, I didn't mean to throw all this at you, to make this such a depressing dinner."

"No, this is good, Harry.  I mean, how you're feeling isn't good, but I'm glad you're telling me.  I honestly don't know what to say, but I do know keeping it inside isn't good."

Harry nodded and smiled gratefully at his friend.  "Hermione was right."

"She usually is," Ron agreed knowingly.  "Er, what exactly was she right about this time?"

"The night we broke up, she told me that being an Auror was more than a job to me.  She's right; it's like an obsession.  Fighting evil has defined me for so long, that I guess I didn't know how to let go and just be Harry, whoever he is."

"Well, at least you know now," Ron said encouragingly.

"Yeah, but now it's too late," Harry said sadly.  "She's moved on, found someone else.  And look at him!  He's like the anti-Harry: everything that I'm not!  If that's who she's found happiness with, then it's clear to me that it's over between us."

Ron shook his head.  "It's not over yet, Harry.  You have to have hope."

Harry looked at him then nodded.  But inside, Harry didn't know if he had anything left to hope for.

**A/N**: hmmm…rather depressing, no?  Please note that this story is equally about Harry and Hermione's relationship and the little murder mystery going on, so there'll be chapters that are only about Harry's personal life (like this one) as well as chapters that are only about the case (like the last one and the next one).  Also, as a warning, you might not see Hermione again until later, but from then on you'll see _a lot_ of her.

**Brandon**: hopefully you'll be patient.  Hermione will be showing up later, and then you won't be able to get rid of her.

**kateydidnt**: woo hoo, a celebrity reviewer!  Love your story, one of the first I ever read and one of the few non-H/Hr stories that I still follow.

**ears91**: as you can see, Harry slowly coming out of his shell.  He was starting to depress me.

**Facade1**: I'm afraid no H/Hr for a bit.  I'm not sure how long, since sometimes chapters pop up out of nowhere (this one for instance, basically wrote it self from nothing).


	8. General Magics

**11/24/03:  **Okay, here's a long, long, long chapter from me.  Just a warning, it's all about the case, no interactions with any of Harry's friends.  Not much happens since it's just plot development, so hopefully it's not too boring.

**8. General Magics******

Harry awoke the next morning with a splitting headache, made worse by the blaring of his alarm clock.  Harry groaned, promising himself once again that he would never drink like _that _again.  After Harry's rather uncharacteristic confession about his feelings, Ron was left not knowing what to do; it wasn't in his nature to provide comfort.  So, rather than offer words of sympathy (words that he didn't even know), Ron tried to bolster Harry's spirits the best way he knew how: by getting him completely pissed.  Ron used Harry's mobile to call Fred and George, and the four of them had an unmemorable time at The Hog's Head – unmemorable only because Harry had too much to drink to remember what happened.  He did, though, have images of a lot of red hair and…karaoke?

Harry shook his head grimly.  Harry casted a spell on himself to remove the effects of his hangover, and then padded his way to the shower to get ready for work.  Today, he and Robert would be working on the Mediate case while Nick Clarke and his partner, Brad Casey, reviews the Campbell murders.  Harry dressed quickly and floo'ed over to the Ministry.  Robert was waiting for him just inside the security counter.  "Ready for a full day Potter?" he asked gruffly.

Harry smiled.  "And cheery good morning to you too!  Where do we start?  Imagery?"  Robert nodded, and the two detectives made their way to the forensics department.

"Back again detectives?" Roxy, the witch behind the reception desk asked curiously.

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, but this time we want to look at the Mediate case.  It was Detective Darren Price's, earlier this year."

Roxy nodded and opened a large book filled with blank pages.  She waved her wand over the book and murmured a spell, and as they watched, words filled the pages.  "Price…Price," the witch said softly to herself.  "Ah ha!  Here it is," she said triumphantly, stabbing at the entry with her finger.  "It'll take about ten minutes to spool it up.  Have a seat, and I'll call you when it's ready."

"Thanks Rox," Harry said.  He and Robert took seats in the plush couches that lined the waiting room.  Harry reached over to the little coffee table in the center and picked up the latest Daily Prophet while Robert grabbed an issue of Quidditch Weekly.  They read quietly for a few minutes until Harry's sigh of exasperation broke the silence.

"What?" Robert asked, looking over the top of his magazine at his partner.

"Our first MSARS death, near Bristol," Harry said glumly.

Robert let the magazine fall to his lap.  "I had hoped it wouldn't reach us."

Harry nodded in agreement.  MSARS had started on the Continent, the first identified case was in Italy, and had spread rather quickly throughout Europe and into Asia.  America was similarly impacted, but thus far, only a few isolated cases were found in the UK.  Contracting MSARS was not automatically fatal, though many of the cases ended inexplicably in death.  Today's Daily Prophet brought news of the first death in the UK.  Harry thought of Hermione, working long hours in her lab at St. Mungo's, trying to find a cure and/or vaccine for the disease.  He knew that this news would hit her hard; she would probably take the death as a personal failure.

Harry sighed again, but not for reasons involving MSARS.  Harry had been thinking of Hermione a lot recently, and all because of Ginny and Neville's party just a few days ago.  After pouring out his soul to Ron the other night, Harry was able to admit to himself just how much he missed her.  He could no longer hide behind the walls created by his anger and his hurt.  Was Ron right?  Was it not over yet between them?  Should Harry still have hope?

"Detectives?" Roxy's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts.  "The image is ready.  Exam room four is yours."

Harry and Robert stood and thanked the witch.  They entered their exam room, and Harry flipped the activation switch.  The bare walls of the exam room faded away and were replaced by a dark alley, illuminated by a few lampposts.  Harry immediately spotted the body of Ernie Mediate, lying face down in a small puddle of blood.  Pulling out his wand, Harry approached the body, his eyes taking in every detail of the crime scene.

Various bins lined the sides of the alley, obscuring the body from the street outside.  Trash littered the ground, and Harry stepped over a few broken bottles and a crushed box or two.  It was a cold enough that Harry could see his own breath; the room mimicked the temperature at the time of the murder as well.  Harry frowned slightly as he approached the body.  Mediate was face down on the ground, a gunshot clearly visible on his back, outlined in the red of his blood.  Harry knew from reviewing the case file that it was an exit wound; Mediate had been shot from the front at close range.  His practiced eye also picked out the details that confirmed what the report had concluded: the fact that Mediate was face down despite being shot from the front, combined with the small amount of blood that had escaped the body meant that Mediate was killed elsewhere, and then his body was brought here.  Harry looked around the alleyway, noticing the lack of blood stains anywhere, and grew unhappy.

Robert walked up to stand beside him.  "What?" he asked, evidently noticing the scowl on Harry's face.

"I can't believe Price didn't notice anything right away!  I mean sure, the gunshot's as plain as day, but the body and crime scene are just too clean!  It would take a really anal Muggle to move the body without getting blood all over the place, or to drag a bleeding corpse into this alleyway without being noticed.  I mean, it's a busy street out there," Harry growled in frustration, gesturing back at the main street connected to the alley.

"Yeah, well, even if he did, I don't think it would have helped much.  MC used a tracking charm afterwards to help out the Muggle police, but they couldn't find where Mediate had originally been murdered."

"_That_ should have been a clue that it wasn't a simple Muggle killing," Harry said darkly.  "You find anything?"

Robert shook his head.  "No, and I didn't really expect too.  There's nothing here that Price and MC didn't find already."

Harry nodded in agreement, as he had expected the same.  Despite his earlier recriminations at Detective Price, Harry knew that he and MC would do a good job collecting any and all evidence.  Robert and Harry visited the crime scene mainly to get an idea of the crime.  After another ten minutes examining the scene, Robert and Harry agreed there was nothing else to be learned.  After checking out of Imagery, Harry and Robert's next stop was a General Magics' plant, where Mediate had worked.  Harry and Robert took the lift to the garage where they signed out a Ministry car.  

Harry groaned melodramatically as he climbed into the passenger seat.  "Gah!  It's going to take us half an hour to get out there!  If only there was someway to get there faster."

"Shut it Potter," Robert replied as he pulled out into the London traffic.  Harry grinned.  Because of the sensitive nature of the magic that performed, the General Magics plant was not directly connected to the floo network for fear of industrial espionage.  Normally, Harry would have preferred to simply apparate to the plant, but Robert couldn't apparate, something Harry took pleasure in reminding the older man, and it was a bit too far a distance for Harry to apparate them both.   

Unlike Harry's harrowing experiences aboard the Knight Bus, Robert guided the ministry car smoothly through traffic, and Harry quickly become accustomed to the sensation of moving sideways.  In fact, after being partners for a year, Harry had almost learned to suppress the panic at heading straight for a standing car at eighty kilometers an hour.  Eventually the plant came into sight, and Robert drove towards the entrance.

"Here we are, Potter, so you can stop wetting yourself.  Only took twenty minutes," Robert said slyly.  Robert took as much pleasure in mocking Harry's reaction to riding in wizarding cars as Harry did with Robert's inability to apparate.

Harry chuckled.  "Well, you really are a good driver, I'll give you that.  Of course, you'd have to be, since you can't really get around otherwise…"  Harry was saved from a response as they had reached the guard tower.

Robert rolled down the window.  "Aurors to meet with Mr. Adam Tway.  We have an appointment," Robert said to the guard.

The guard checked a piece of parchment he was holding.  "Very good.  Follow the road all the way straight through.  You'll pass the main entrance, and then you'll see the signs for visitor parking."

Robert gave his thanks and they followed the directions.  Harry was impressed by the size of the plant as they drove through, noting the small pond as they passed by.  After parking, Harry straightened his robes and followed Robert back along the road they had traveled until they reached the main entrance.  They passed a very long rack containing brooms and through the doors, where they saw a large reception desk manned by two wizards and a witch.  Two other wizards were being helped, but as no one was in line ahead of them, they walked right up to the witch.

"Detectives Toms and Potter to see Mr. Adam Tway," Robert said to the witch as he flashed his Auror credentials.  The three receptionists, along with the two other people being helped, looked up immediately upon hearing 'Potter.'  There was the usual gasp and stunned silence, but the witch recovered quickly.

"Certainly," she said, flashing a charming smile at the two Aurors.  "He's expecting you.  If you'll take a seat, he'll be right out in a few moments," she said, indicating a large waiting area containing a set of leather couches.

Harry and Robert nodded their thanks and took the 'Visitors' stickers that the witch handed them.  Placing the stickers on their robes as they walked, Robert took a seat and thumbed through a magazine while Harry examined a large-scale model of the facility.  It was even more impressive then he had originally thought, now able to see the four buildings in addition to the one they were in now, the three cafeterias, and the childcare center.  After examining the model twice, Harry took the seat opposite of Robert.  He looked around impatiently a moment, checking his watch.

"It's been ten minutes already," Harry grumbled, eliciting an amused chuckle from Robert.  Harry was familiar with this particular strategy – making the Aurors wait to show how important you are – but it didn't make waiting any easier.  And, Harry had to grudgingly admit, he was accustomed to people reacting quickly to his needs once they found out he was Harry Potter.   After another five minutes, during which Harry amused himself by drawing various shapes in the air with his wand, a young witch headed directly towards them.  Although there were other people in waiting area, only Harry and Robert were wearing Auror robes, clearly distinguishing themselves from the saleswizards and other people waiting.

"Mr. Toms?  Mr. Potter?  I'm Anna Soren, Adam's secretary.  If you'll follow me?" she asked cheerfully.  Harry and Robert stood and followed Anna through the complex.  As they walked, she gave them a brief tour of the plant.  "…and the hallway on our left leads to our Charms facility…up ahead to the right is where our warehouses are located.  They house all of the raw materials we use…and here we are.  Adam's office is over here, overlooking the Transfiguration department."  Anna led them through a glass door and into large room filled with cubicles.  One entire wall was made of glass and overlooked the Transfiguration department, and many wizards and witches gave them curious looks as they passed through.  At the end of the room was another door, and Anna turned towards them.  "I'll go check to see if Adam is free," she said and disappeared behind the door.  Harry and Robert wordlessly watched the Transfiguration department through the window until Anna returned and gestured for them to enter.

Adam Tway was a mousy looking man that reminded Harry of a taller Peter Pettigew.  He disliked him immediately.  Tway's desk faced the window into the Transfiguration department, and two small chairs were arranged before it.  Tway came around his desk to greet them.

"Ah, Detectives Toms and Potter!  It's wonderful to meet you both.  Please, have a seat."  Harry was slightly surprised that the man didn't gush all over him; he definitely seemed the type.  "I am a little confused though," he said, putting on the look of a man with much more important things to do, "as to why you are here.  I already told the other Auror everything I know."

"It's just procedure, Mr. Tway.  We recently found some new information that may be related to this case."

"New information, huh?" Tway asked casually.

"Ah, I'm afraid I can't go into details.  I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course.  Well, I want to help in any way I can.  What do you need to know?"

"Tell us about Mr. Mediate's job, his responsibilities."

Tway leaned back into his chair.  "Ernie was the quality control supervisor in our fig-n-fly department," he said, indicating the glass wall behind Harry.  "He-"

"I'm sorry," Harry interrupted, confused, "fig-n-fly?"

Tway chuckled.  "Ah, sorry.  That's what we call our Transfiguration department for short.  Fig for Transfiguration, and fly because after we're done transfiguring the raw materials to the correct components, they're levitated over to the Charms department."

Harry nodded.  "Okay.  Please, continue."

"Let's see, where was I?  Right, Ernie was in quality control.  His responsibility was to ensure that each transfigured component was free of defects."

"Did he check each individual component?" Robert asked.

Tway shook his head.  "Oh no, it would take a week just to check over the components we produce in a single day.  Ernie had a team of workers who check a random sample of components, but primarily Ernie would follow-up on any problems or customer complaints, and it was his job to make sure we followed the Ministry's guidelines on transfigured objects."

"Ah, I see now," Robert said.

"Would you like to see how the process works for yourself?  I'm sure it'll prove most enlightening."

Harry nodded eagerly.  "I've never been in a plant before," he admitted.

Tway stood.  "Well then, come on," he said with a smile.  He led them back out the way they came and down another hallway.  

While they walked, Robert leaned over and whispered to Harry, "Anything?"

Harry shook his head.  "Just the typical nerves at the beginning.  Nothing suspicious for now."

They reached a set of heavy, metal doors.  There was a mirror on one side, and Tway looked into his own reflection.  "Adam Tway and two visitors," he said.  The metal door shimmered slightly and looked less substantial, but it did not open.  "Follow me," Tway said and walked through the wall.  Harry followed Robert through the wall, reminded of the barrier at Platform 9¾.  Harry found himself in a very large room, the size of a warehouse.  The sounds of spellcasting could clearly be heard.  "Here, put these on," Tway said over the noise.  He handed them each a wizard hat, which Harry realized that everyone else was wearing.  "They're charmed to protect your head from falling objects," Tway added.

Harry put on the hat and followed Tway to the far end of the room, where two large doors were open.  They went outside.  "Over here," Tway said, "is where we the raw materials are brought over."  Harry watched as teams of wizards levitated various 'raw materials' (large rocks, tree trunks and branches, pieces of scrap metal) from outside the room onto floating platforms.  Other wizards then manually pushed the platforms into the room.  Harry looked at them in curiosity, wondering why they didn't use magic.  Tway must have noticed his look for he gestured over at them.  "Squibs," he explained.  "We make it a point to employ Squibs.  Our president's sister is a Squib."

Harry nodded, and Tway led them back into the room.  Once inside the room, the platforms were arranged into a various lines depending on the material, and were magically moved towards the other end.  Various stations were set up where witches and wizards would cast different spells on the materials on the platforms, transfiguring them into different forms.  "Each station has a different responsibility," Tway was saying, "transfiguring the raw materials into the components.  Some components require multiple transfigurations, while others only need to be magicked once or twice."

They approached the other end of the room, where another set of double doors was wide open.  "From here," Tway said, "the components are levitated to the Charms department, where the workers there add their own spells to the components.  After that, it's on to assembly where everything is put together, then transportation."

"Very impressive," Harry said as they made their way back to Tway's office.

"We try our best," Tway said modestly.  "It's a good system, though we're of course always on the look-out for ways to improve efficiency.  We're currently investigated the feasibility of a local floo network to move materials back and forth between departments more quickly."

After they returned to Tway's office, Robert began asking a few more questions about Mediate and his job.  Harry remained silent, passively using his legilimency skills to watch Tway for any telltale reactions, any emotions that would reveal guilt.  Tway revealed nothing out-of-the-ordinary until Robert came to the most pertinent question.

"Just one last question, about your customers.  You mentioned that Mr. Mediate often dealt with complaints.  Do you know if he dealt with any complaints from Magical Solutions?"

An unidentified emotion flickered briefly across Tway's face, and Harry's eyes narrowed.  "Er, Magical Solutions?" Tway asked.

Harry nodded, speaking for the first time.  "Yes, they're a small family-owned business in Diagon Alley.  Has Mr. Mediate had any cause to be in contact with them?"

Tway looked at Harry as he asked the question, giving Harry the opportunity to make eye contact.  Tway swallowed.  "Um, I'm not sure.  We have hundreds of customers, so I'm sure you understand that I don't have that kind of information at the tip of my finger," he said.

"Perhaps you could have someone look up that information for us?" Robert asked.

"Of course, of course," Tway said.  "If you'll excuse me for one minute?"  Without waiting for an answer, he left the office.  Harry and Robert exchanged a meaningful look but didn't speak, aware that there might be magical listening devices somewhere.  After what seemed like five minutes, Tway returned.  "I've looked through our recent activities and couldn't find anything on this Magical Solutions.  I would look further back, but unfortunately the witch in charge of our archives is on vacation.  She'll be back in a couple days, at which I'll make sure to have her do a thorough search and get that information to you straight away."

Harry looked at Robert, intending to take the lead from him.  "Very well, Mr. Tway," Robert said, standing.  Harry followed suite.  "We eagerly await the results of her search.  In two days time, you said?"

Tway nodded.  "Two or three, depending on how long it takes her."

"Okay.  Owl the information over to the Ministry, care of either Detective Potter or myself," Robert said.

Tway led them to the door.  "Anna?" he called out to his secretary.  When he got her attention, he said, "Detectives Toms and Potter are finished here.  Would you mind walking them out?"

"Certainly," she said with a smile.

Tway shook Harry and Robert's hands.  "It was a pleasure to meet you both."

"It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Tway," Harry said.  "If you can think of anything else, please owl us."

"I will.  Have a good day," Tway said before disappearing back into his office.  Anna escorted the two Aurors back to the main entrance, where they signed out.  Harry followed Robert silently back to the car, and it was not until they were on the road back to London that they spoke.

"Well?" Robert asked.

"He knows something.  He's scared, and I don't think it's just of us," Harry said, his reply masking his certainty.  Harry was sure that Tway was scared of something other than the two Aurors.

"All right.  We'll see what Clarke and Casey find out at Magical Solutions, and then we'll take a much closer look at Mr. Adam Tway."

*********************************

By the time they got back to the bullpen, it was the end of the workday.  Since Harry and Robert already had a case, they weren't required to stay the night watching the wheel; only detectives without active cases were required to pull a late shift.  Once everyone had a case, though, their names would be put back on the wheel, though Harry suspected that given the high-profile nature of their case, they wouldn't be on the wheel until it was solved.

Detective Clarke hadn't yet returned from his investigation (or he had already returned and left for home, they couldn't be sure of which), so Harry and Robert decided to call it a day.  They called over to S&I to put a few standard tracking spells on Tway, mostly to ensure that they could locate him if he tried to escape.  After finishing up their notes on their day, Harry and Robert took the lift to the main level.  After exiting, they saw Madam Bones talking with a young couple, a wizard and a witch.   Although Harry and Robert could reach the fireplaces without passing near her, they knew that, she being their boss, it would be rude to simply walk by without acknowledging her.  Harry and Robert walked in her direction.

"Good evening, Madam Bones," Robert said respectfully, Harry next to him.

"Harry!" came a surprised voice.

Harry suddenly recognized the young couple.  "Susan!" he said in surprise, and then shared a quick hug with the Hufflepuff alumni.  

"Hey Harry," came the voice of the young wizard, pleasant though more subdued then Susan's.

"Hey Ernie," Harry said, shaking his hand.  Ernie Macmillan also worked at the Ministry, a rising star in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.  They had crossed paths a few times during work and had shared lunch on occasion.  

"Hello Harry, Robert," Amelia said.  "How goes the investigation?"

"Very well, Madam Bones," Harry said politely.  "We believe we found a connection and already have a small lead, which we will follow-up on tomorrow."

Amelia smiled.  "Good.  This is a very important case; keep me informed," she said to them.  "You'll drop by later for dinner, then?" she asked her niece.

Susan nodded.  "Of course Auntie.  I'll owl you," she said cheerfully.

The two Bones shared a hug, and then Amelia bade everyone a good night before floo'ing off.  Robert also said good night, leaving the old classmates alone.  Harry looked over at Susan and smiled.  He always felt a little guilty they he didn't even know her name until their fifth year, at the first DA meeting, but he was eternally grateful to her, for she was the first one to give credence to the notion that Harry could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts when she asked about his Patronus…his corporeal Patronus, to be exact.  Susan was a pretty witch with long, blonde hair.  Her aunt had tried to set them up a few times, but Harry wasn't interested in her romantically.  As Harry looked into her smiling face, he off-handedly wished that he _were_ interested in her, but he knew that his heart would always be elsewhere.

"So, what brings you in town Susan?  I thought you were working in Belgium?"

"I was, but I took the week off to be here for the ten-year anniversary," she said, slightly somber as Ernie nodded

Harry looked at them in confusion.  It would be another three years until his ten-year graduation anniversary.  "Ten-year anniversary?"

Susan gave him an odd look.  "Yes, ten years since…didn't you get the invitation?" she asked.

Harry wracked his brain, trying to think of an invitation.  Harry, of course, got more mail then he cared for from fans and people wanting things from him.  He had to hire a small firm to keep track of his mail, and they were supposed to forward important things onto him as well as answer his fan mail.  He couldn't think of any invitation that would involve Susan Bones.  "I'm sorry," he said lamely.  "I don't remember any invitation."

Susan and Ernie exchanged a look.  Harry would have expected them to be irritated or exasperated with him, but instead, they looked more uncomfortable then anything else.  "Well, er" Ernie stammered.

Susan laid her hand on Ernie's arm to quiet him.  "It's the ten year anniversary since Cedric died.  We're having a little service and a get-together this weekend.  I know you were invited, Ron and Hermione too."

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself.  Was it already ten years since Cedric died, ten years since being tied up in the graveyard and watching Voldemort rise?  He had successfully forgotten all about it for the past five years or so, and now it all came back.  Everything seemed to be happening all at once to Harry: first, his confrontation with Hermione, and now this.

"Please come, Harry.  Everyone would love to see you," Susan was saying.  Harry redirected his attention back to her.  There wasn't a good reason why he shouldn't go (except that he really didn't want too), and he knew he owed it to Cedric to honor his sacrifice.

"I'll be there Susan," he said, putting up a faltering smile.  "Did you say Ron was going?"

Ernie nodded.  "He confirmed a few weeks ago."

"Okay, I'll get the details from him then."

Susan smiled.  "I know it's a strange thing to say about a memorial service, but I think it'll be a good time.  It'll be nice to see everyone again."  Harry nodded in agreement, though he privately thought it wouldn't be _that_ nice to see everyone again.  "Ernie and I are meeting Megan Jones for dinner, want to come?" Susan asked.

"Er, thanks, but I have a lot to do tonight.  As Madam Bones said, we have a big case, and I have a lot of materials to go over tonight," Harry lied.  Susan and Ernie looked disappointed but said that they understood.  Finally, they exchanged good bye's and Harry floo'ed home.

**A/N**: well, hopefully this chapter wasn't too boring.  Not a lot happened, but it was necessary to move the plot along to the next step.  At least you can take comfort in the fact that I posted this all at once rather than split it into two chapters  :)

**Sethro72**: you're right in that all these emotions from Harry are driving him back towards people.  Can't have Harry be angsty forever, now can we?  In my story, Voldemort's dead and buried, but I won't be getting into specifics since it won't come up in the story.

**JT**: this is strictly from Harry's POV, so sorry, nothing from Hermione's view.

**kraeg001**: Naw, I don't think Harry will sacrifice himself at the end of book 7.  After all, think of all the crying kids!  JKR would receive hate mail from parents around the globe!  You're right that with all the HP fanfic floating around, a lot of stories resemble each other.  I mean, consider my own stories: a transfer student and Harry-in-Slytherin.  They've definitely been done before.

**Winky27**: thanks for the compliments!  And H/Hr rules!

**HeeroTomoe**: I'm glad you didn't find the last chapter depressing…hopefully this one won't be too boring ;)


	9. The First Loose Thread

**11/26/03:  **I should probably stop saying that these are long chapters for me, because they're all coming out long.  Anyways, enjoy! 

**9. The First Loose Thread******

Harry sighed after arriving at his empty flat.  Without bothering to remove his Auror robes, he sank heavily into his favorite armchair and stared at the blank television screen.  Harry didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at the insanity of it all.  Only a week ago, his life had been neat and orderly.  Sure, some might say he led a lonely life, but it was stable, solid, safe – well, relatively safe for an Auror.  He had a good job and had just cleared a robbery case.  Was it only Friday night that everything suddenly turned upside down?  A new case that has grown significantly, a confrontation with Hermione that re-opened new wounds, and now Cedric!  For God's sake, he even spilled out his heart to Ron in a Ravenclaw restaurant.  It was still only Tuesday, and he was afraid to see what the rest of the week would bring.  Harry decided to laugh at the direction his life seemed to be taking, since crying was a bit too unmanly.

After indulging in a few seconds of maniacal laughter, Harry stood and walked over to the fireplace.  He grabbed a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the flames.  "Ronald Weasley!" he called aloud, then walked towards the kitchen.  Hanging his robes in the closet on the way, Harry opened his refrigerator (purely Muggle, came with the flat) and examined the meager contents.  As Harry was considering a dinner of cheese and crackers, he heard Ron's voice calling out.

"Harry?  You there?"

Harry turned and walked back to the fireplace, where he sat before Ron's floating head.  "Hey Ron."

"What's up?"  (**A/N: **I always thought that sounded a bit out of place coming from a Potterverse character, but they do say it a few times in OotP.)

"I ran into Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan at the Ministry.  You going to Cedric's thing this weekend?"

Ron nodded and looked a bit uncomfortable.  "Yeah, I am.  Um, listen Harry, since you never mentioned it, I figured you didn't-" 

Harry waved his hand dismissively.  "Don't worry about it Ron.  I never got the invitation."  Harry sighed.  "I told them I was going.  Can I tag along with you?"

Ron's head nodded.  "Sure thing Harry."

"When does it start?"

"Well, there's a dinner in Hogsmeade on Friday night; I can drop by and pick you up if you can go.  Then there's a brunch at Hogwarts on Saturday, with the service afterwards around 4pm and then dinner afterwards.  I'm not sure if there's anything on Sunday, but I'm sure there's something."

Harry nodded.  "All right.  I'll let you know if I can make the Friday thing."  They chatted for a little bit longer about random things before Harry said his good-bye.  Harry had hoped it would a simple service, in-and-out quickly in a couple of hours, but now there was a dinner, no, two dinners, and a brunch.  Normally, Harry would have cited work and simply not attended, but this was different – this was for Cedric.  Harry leaned back and lay spread-eagled on the floor for a little bit.  He was reasonably sure that Hermione would be there, though her work may take her away for some of it, and if Hermione were there, then _Rick_ would be there as well.  

Harry groaned and pulled himself to his feet.  That's enough self-pity for one day, he could go back to it tomorrow.  The immediate problem was, of course, what to eat.   Harry was slightly suspicious of the cheese in his refrigerator - did cheese mold?  Isn't cheese itself mold? Does mold mold? – and that same feeling of not wanting to be alone persevered from last night.  Acting on a whim, Harry changed into some Muggle clothes and apparated away.

Although he didn't want to be alone, Harry didn't want to be with anyone either.  So, Harry decided to grab a bite to eat in Muggle London, rather than any of the wizarding establishments.  Harry popped into existence in a darkened alley, away from Muggle eyes.  After looking around to see if anyone was nearby or noticed, Harry exited the alley and walked the busy streets, looking for an interesting place to eat.

"Harry?  Harry Potter?"

Harry groaned and considered his options.  He could always just apparate away, but doing so on a crowded street surrounded by Muggles would probably earn him a reprimand.  He could always pretend he didn't hear his name being called and run into the nearest open shop, but he didn't want to earn a reputation as being rude.  So, reluctantly, Harry turned in place, an artificial smile plastered on his face.  But when he saw who was calling his name, a genuine smile replaced the fake one.

"Luna!" Harry cried happily as the blond Ravenclaw alumni ran up to him.  Luna hadn't changed much since school, her signature wide-eyed expression still in place.  In school, her odd little beliefs aside, Luna Lovegood had been a reliable friend, although one of his quirkiest.  Luna had resolutely stood by him and supported him almost from the very instant they first met in fifth year, even risking her life by going with him to the Department of Mysteries despite not really knowing each other at the time.  Harry also had something in common with Luna: She was always a bit of a joke at Hogwarts (her nickname said it all, Looney Lovegood), and Harry was also used to being ridiculed.  But more importantly, aside from Hermione and Ron (most of the time), Luna didn't care that Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived.  She was more interested in fire-demon-thingies and Crumpled-Snorky-whosits.  The Great Harry Potter probably ranked at least in the lower teens on her list of interesting things.  

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked after they shared a quick hug.

"Just doing a little shopping with Serena before I meet my husband," she said with a smile.

Harry only then noticed the small figure huddling behind Luna, peering up at Harry from behind Luna's left leg.  He bent over, resting his hands on his knees.  "Hi Serena," he said with the brightest smile he could manage.  "Remember me?  I'm Uncle Harry."  Serene responded by burying her face in her mother's skirts.  Harry grinned.

"Come Serena," Luna said to her daughter.  "Say hi to Uncle Harry."  Serena, without taking her face away from Luna skirt, only shook her head vigorously.

"Ah well," Harry said smiling, "I seem to have that effect on women sometimes."

"She's just hungry," Luna said apologetically, but Harry waved her off.  "So," Luna asked, "what are you doing in this part of Muggle London?"

Harry shrugged.  "I was looking for a bite to eat and wasn't in the mood to be recognized."

Luna nodded sympathetically.  "Serena and I were about to eat something," she said, indicating a McDonald's a few stores down. (**A/N**: yes, to all those wondering, there is a McDonald's in downtown London, near Herrod's I think?  Or was that a Burger King?)  "Would you like to join us?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Harry said, and they walked into the McDonald's.  "Since when did you like McDonald's?" Harry asked her as they waited in line.  "It's a very Mugglish place."

"Stephen introduced me to them.  Serena loves the Happy Meal toys, even if they don't move by themselves."

The three placed their orders and brought their food to the second floor, overlooking the street below.  For the first time in a very long time, Harry had a pleasant conversation with someone _other_ than Ron, for Luna wasn't interesting in all his accomplishments and activities; he able to have a conversation like a normal person.  As they ate, Serena eventually warmed up to Harry, and (after making sure no one could see them), Harry charmed Serena's Happy Meal toy, a miniature cartoon character of some kind that Harry remembered seeing on the television, to dance and move about.  Dinner finished, Harry accompanied Luna and her daughter through a few more stores until it was time for her to meet up with Stephen, her Muggle husband who worked in the area.  Harry politely declined the offer to drop by their home, and Harry apparated home, feeling much better than when he left.

*********************************

The next morning Harry arrived in the Bullpen feeling rather chipper, still feeling the pleasant emotions from last night.  Robert noticed.

"Hey Potter, what happened?  Get lucky last night?"

Harry chuckled.  "Waitaminute.  Aren't I the one who's supposed to come up with the immature jokes?"

"True, but you're behind your quota so I thought I'd help you out."

"Gee, thanks partner," Harry said dryly, "and for your information I did _not _get lucky.  I just had a very pleasant evening with friends."

Robert smirked.  "Sure, whatever."

"Bah!  Anyone ever told you that you're a dirty old man?"

"Just my wife," Robert responded.

"Anyways," Harry said, cutting off the chitchat, "are the Gringott's records in yet?"

Robert looked at him curiously.  "What makes you think we're waiting for something from Gringott's?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "After all these years, I _have_ picked up a thing or two."

Robert scoffed.  "Too bad you haven't picked up riding in wizarding cars yet.  Anyone ever tell you that you scream like a little girl?"

Harry mock glared at him.  "Yeah, Draco Malfoy, and you know what I did to him."

Robert responded with equally mock fear.  "Alright, alright, I give."

"Good," Harry said, and then grinned.  "So, the Gringott's data in yet?"

"Not yet.  Should be any minute though."

"What about Nick?  Is he here yet?"

Robert shook his head.  "That lazy bastard is almost as bad as you."

"Great," Harry mumbled.  "So I showed up for nothing, huh?"

"Looks like it," Robert said in a bored tone.  Then he threw a letter onto Harry's desk.  "Oh here, you got an owl this morning."

Harry reached for the envelope, and then groaned. 

"What is it?"

"It's from a law firm," Harry said.

"Hmmm…those are never good."

"Gee, thanks for the great insight," Harry said as he broke the wax seal.  "They want another go at me on my Bjorn testimony before it gets to the Wizengamot."

"When?"

Harry read further down the letter.  "Um, in two weeks."  Robert nodded disinterestedly.  

Just then, a messenger approached them.  "Package for you Detective Toms.  From Gringott's."

Robert's eyes lit up.  "Great!  Thanks Aaron."

Harry leaned forward eagerly, knowing that the package from Gringott's should provide some insight into Mr. Adam Tway.  Harry had watched many a Muggle crime drama on television was eternally grateful that he worked in the wizarding world.  In almost all criminal cases, money was involved – if you could follow the cash flow, you often found the culprit, or at least a motive.  In the Muggle world, it was often difficult to trace the money, with so many banks and financial institutions out there, not to mention people who hid their money under their mattresses.  But in the wizarding world, all galleons started and ended at Gringott's.  True, a wizard could still use the old under-the-mattress system of safekeeping, but since all business used Gringott's to hold their money, any money spent could be traced.  It was a thick package, a ten year history of Tway's financial activities, and Harry and Robert split it up between them.  Even though things were easier in the wizarding world, it would still take the better part of the morning to go through it all.

About twenty minutes into the file, Detective Nick Clarke approached them.  "Ah, poring through Gringott's, I see," he said, recognizing the format of the parchments.

"So good of you to join us," Robert said acidly.  "I was beginning to wonder if you'd taken the day off."

"Don't mind him Nick.  Looking at numbers always puts Robert in a bad mood.  So, what'd you find out?"

Nick chuckled at pulled up a chair.  "Not a whole lot more than you guys, but I _did_ find out that Magical Solutions carries General Magics appliances, and that they've received a few complaints about them."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.  "Complaints that would go to Campbell, who would probably then talk to Mediate."

"Yeah," Robert said.  "That makes sense.  Did you find anything linking the two together?"

Nick shook his head.  "Unfortunately no.  There were no written records or letters from Mediate to Campbell, or vice versa.  Of course, that doesn't mean they couldn't have spoken by floo."

Harry cursed inwardly.  In the Muggle world, they had things like phone records and wire taps.  In the magical world, there was no reliable way to trace floo conversations.  Although the Floo Network Authority could monitor a fire _after_ a request, there was no to get information on a non-monitored fire.  Harry knew they were looking into a way to do that, but that wouldn't help their case in the here and now.

"What's your next step?"

Nick held up his own package from Gringott's, a much larger one than theirs.  "I have all of the Campbells' and Magical Solutions' financials records.  Me 'n Brad are gonna spend the rest of the day going through them to see if there's anything suspicious."

Robert nodded in approval.  "Okay, sounds good.  Now leave us alone," he said gruffly.  Nick laughed and went to his own desk, where he and Brad would tackle the Gringott's information.

*********************************

About three hours into the file, Harry finally found something interesting.  He looked at the parchment he was scribbling notes on and verified his initial suspicions.  "Hey Robert," Harry called.

Robert looked up from his own pile of parchments.  "Hm?"

"Starting about six month…no, wait, starting about year ago, did Tway get a big raise or another source of income?  Maybe an inheritance or something?"

Robert starting rifling though the parchments while Harry waited expectantly.   After finding the section on Tway's income over the past year, Robert began examining the parchment carefully.  Harry tapped his quill impatiently as he waited, stilled after a glare from Robert.  Finally Robert looked up.  "Nope, nothing.  The amount of his deposits into his Gringott's vault is fairly constant."

Harry grinned and came around to Robert's side of the desk.  "Here, take a look at this.  This is what caught my attention," Harry said, pointing to an entry on the parchment.  "Two months ago, Tway bought a new car.  Now, normally, that wouldn't be a big deal; after all, people buy new cars all the time.  But if you look over here, you'll notice he's increased his buying habits over the past year on little things – a wizarding wireless here, a few premium tickets to a Quidditch match over here.  I compared his spending on a rolling twelve month basis to the same period last year, and he's definitely spending more than he makes, even considering his line of credit at Gringott's and his debt history."

Robert looked over the Gringott's parchments that Harry was holding as well as Harry's own notes for a few minutes before throwing them down on his desk in disgust.  "Bah!  I hate math.  Just tell me Potter, is there enough to bring him in?"

Harry shook his head in amusement at his numbers-deficient partner.  "Yes Robert.  We can bring him in."

*********************************

After a quick trip to the Wizengamot's administrative offices to procure a warrant, Harry and Robert headed back towards the General Magic's plant with a two Auror patrolmen in tow.  Arresting someone was never an easy thing, but Harry figured that arresting Tway wouldn't be all that difficult – he didn't seem the type to draw his wand and try to AK someone.  Soon the massive buildings of the General Magics' plant came into view.  As before, they stopped at the guard post.  Robert rolled down the window.

"We're here on official Auror business.  Let us through."

The guard looked uncomfortable.  "I'm sorry sir, I can't do that unless you have an appointment."  Robert and Harry traded incredulous looks.

"Are you kidding me?" Robert asked.

"No sir.  I have my orders.  I am not allowed to pass anyone with prior authorization."

Robert leaned his head out the window until he got the attention of the Aurors in the car behind them.  He stuck his arms out of the window, crossed at the wrist, and then pointed at the guard.  Seconds later, the two patrolmen appeared by the guard's side and, before the poor guard could react, pushed him roughly onto the hood of the car, confiscated his wand, and bound his arms.  "You're under arrest for interfering in Auror business."

Robert looked over at the second guard, who was quivering slightly in the back of the guard post.  Robert motioned him over, and the guard nervously approached.  "Hi there," Robert said in his most falsely polite voice.  "We're here on official Auror business and would appreciate it if you would lift the wards."

The frightened guard nodded and passed the two Auror cars through, the first guard sitting rather shocked in the backseat of the patrolmen's car.  Rather pull through to visitor parking, Robert parked right in front of the main entrance, causing another guard to approach them and block their way into the building.

"Sorry sir, you can't park here, you'll have to move on."

Robert had apparently decided he'd had enough with politeness.  "Listen," he said menacingly.  "We're here on official business.  Now, unless you want to end up like you're buddy over there" – Robert jerked his thumb towards the dejected guard tied up in the back seat – "you'll stand aside."  This guard numbly stood aside as the three Aurors entered the building (the fourth Auror waited with the cars).  They ignored the reception desk and headed directly for Tway's office.  Harry reached for his mobile.

The Auror mobile was a wonderful invention that was a long time coming, seeing as how Muggles have had cellular phones for ages.  It consisted of a flat, circular disk that opened like a clamshell.  Hermione had often teased Harry about it, saying it looked like one of her make-up thingies; sometimes, when Harry went looking for it, she would give him her compact case instead.  Upon opening the mobile, Harry rested it in the palm of his hand and pushed one of the two buttons on the inside.  Immediately, a green flame ignited from the lower half.  "S&I Tracking," Harry said into the flame.

Seconds later, a miniature head appeared in the flame.  "S&I Tracking," the head said.

"This is Detective Potter.  We're looking for a loc on Adam Tway, that's T-W-A-Y."

"One moment please," said the little head before disappearing.  A few seconds later, the head reappeared.  "That's Adam Tway, T-W-A-Y.  Currently located in the General Magic's plant outside of London.  Would you like a visual?"

Harry looked over at Robert, who nodded.  "Yes please," Harry said.

"Coming right up."  The head disappeared, to be replaced by a representation of the General Magics building that they were in.  It was much like the Marauder's Map, with little dots to represent the four Aurors (every Auror robe contained a tracking device) and another red dot to represent Tway.  According to the map, Tway was in his office.

Harry and Robert followed the shimmering map until they reached the familiar room with the glass wall overlooking the fig-n-fly department.  Now knowing where they were, Harry snapped his mobile shut, causing the map to disappear.  Anna Soren, Tway's secretary, stood up nervously as they approached.

"Detectives.  Can I help you?" she asked anxiously.

Harry paused, his hand on the doorknob of Tway's office.  "Just need to talk to you boss."

"I'm sorry, he's in a meeting right now.  I can put you on his calendar though; he had fifteen minutes free at 3pm."

Harry shook his head.  "Sorry, this is sorta important."  Harry opened the door, and they walked in.  Tway was sitting at his desk, a stack of parchments in front of him, and there were two wizards in "hard" hats sitting in the chairs across from him.

"What's going on?" Tway asked as soon as they entered.

Harry flicked his wand, and Tway's own wand came flying towards him, which Harry deftly caught.  "Adam Tway," Robert said in a monotone as the third Auror came around the back of the desk.  "You're under the arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.  You have the right…"

As Robert read Tway his rights, Harry wondered, not for the first time, whether Muggles got that from magicals, or vice versa.  He privately suspected that some Muggleborn heard the rights being read on a television show and thought it'd be a great idea.  Harry could only imagine the reaction of the Wizengamot if they learned their "innovative and revamped" system of justice was patterned after Muggles.  Harry and Robert escorted the shell-shocked Tway to the back of the other Auror car (where they let the poor guard go with a stern warning), and they returned back to the Ministry.

**A/N:** I'm sorry, but since I know nothing about British courts or law, basically everything about the criminal system is going to be based on American courts, mostly Law & Order episodes ;)

I'm glad that no one (who reviewed, anyways) found the last chapter boring.  These chapters seem to take on a life of their own; I mean, I had no idea where Luna came from.  Thanks to everyone for reviewing and for compliments.   Have a great Thanksgiving weekend!

**dmmason03**: your review got me thinking…though it _will_ end H/Hr (I know that ruins some of the suspense, but I personally always like to know), maybe I'll see if Harry can move on before it happens.  I thought Susan was blond; in OotP, I thought she was described as a blond with her hair in a plait, but I forgot to double-check.

**kraeg001**: I admit when I'm wrong (though my wife may disagree).  I'm assuming your referring to the "original plot" part of my comment, not the Harry sacrifice part.  I took your comment about plots resembling each other and extrapolated to the "no original plots," so I've corrected my comment in the prior chapter.  If you still don't like it, I'll delete all reference to it.

**sethro72**: I agree with you completely.  I imagine in the next book, after Harry spirals into depression and (hopefully!) Hermione brings him out, Harry will be more proactive about his destiny, now that he knows it.  You'll learn more about Tway when Harry gets to question him…it'll be great fun!  Please, keep up with the theories and questions, since I often get ideas from them, like **dmmason03**'s comment about Harry moving on.  For more angsty fics, check out my favorites page.  Not all of them are angsty, but a good number are.  One of my favorites is _Betrayed_, even if it's not H/Hr.

**Facade1**: I'm glad you didn't find it boring :)  The Cedric thing came out of nowhere – I was thinking of how Harry would run into Susan in the atrium, then thought of Cedric.  Fortunately, the ages worked out since I made Harry twenty-four in chapter one.  So, how's the _Barriers Upon Us_ coming along? whistles innocently

**fopalup1**: Thanks for the compliments!  I like to think I'm getting better in my writing, especially since the first part of NI was pretty sucky.  Hmm, I never considered Harry's use of Legilimency as a moral issue, but maybe I can use it as another source of angst :)  It'll probably fit better in the sequel to DoF, though…


	10. Good Cop, VeryBadandScary Cop

**12/2/03:  **Wow, long time since I updated!   Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving (at least those who have such a holiday in their country)!  My baby finally learned to crawl over the weekend!

**10. Good Cop, Very-Bad-and-Scary Cop******

Harry sauntered through the dungeons, casually drinking from a bottle of water.  He checked his watch as he walked, figuring enough time had passed for Tway to be processed and waiting for them in an interview room.  Harry grinned; "interviewing" suspects was one of the best parts of his job.  Harry followed the dungeon wall until he reached the main corridor, accessible only to Aurors, where he found Captain Perry standing.  Harry automatically straightened and hid the bottle of water within the folds of his robe.

"Good afternoon Captain Perry," Harry said politely.

"Potter," the Captain said in way of greeting, and then gestured at Tway.  "He doesn't look like much in the way of a criminal mastermind, does he?" 

"No sir, he doesn't," Harry said, and then added with confidence, "I imagine he'll break quickly."

Captain Perry snorted in amusement.  "What's the hold-up?"

"Detective Toms is taking care of some paperwork; he should be here shortly."

"Good."

"How long has he been stewing, sir?"

Perry checked his watch.  "About ten minutes so far."

"Has he lawyer-ed up yet?"

Perry looked at him in amusement.  "Lawyer-ed up?"

Harry grinned sheepishly.  "Ah, I guess I watch too much Muggle television."

The Captain just shook his head.  "He has, but we still get first crack at him."

Harry nodded.  It was just another thing to add to the list on why law enforcement in the wizarding world was easier than in the Muggle world.  The suspect was, of course, entitled to a lawyer, but not until _after_ the initial police interview, up to a maximum of two hours.  The wizarding world may be catching up in some ways to the Muggle world, but some things were still rooted in the old ways – innocence until proven guilty was a relatively new concept.  Harry stood silently next to his captain as they peered through the wall at Adam Tway.  After being processed, consisting of simple paperwork, cataloguing his wand, searching him for dangerous object, etc., Tway was taken to the dungeons deep within the Ministry.  It truly was a dungeon, with cold, dank stone floors and walls.  Tway was currently in an interview room, which functioned much like it's Muggle counterpart, just one better.  While Muggles relied on the well-know trick of a two-way mirror, the Ministry interview rooms had an entire wall that was two-way.  Harry watched as Tway fidgeted nervously in his chair; often times the fear of what might happen was as effective as any interview technique they had.  After observing Tway for a minute or two, Robert walked up to them, Detectives Price, Casey, and Clarke, and Agent Tonks following behind him.  "Sorry about that Captain; there was an issue with the car."

Captain Perry nodded dismissively.  "I see you brought the entire team."

Robert grinned.  "I figured they could use with a good show."

A small smile twitched the corners of the Captain's mouth.  "Very well.  Toms, Potter, you're on."  Harry looked at Robert and they shared a grin.  This was the fun part.

*********************************

A common technique, equally as well known as the two-way mirror, was the reliable good cop/bad cop routine, which was very effective despite the tactic being known by criminals everywhere.  Normally, a relatively inexperienced Auror like Harry would find himself playing the role of the good cop, while the older, more experienced Auror played bad cop.  Robert, in fact, fit the role of bad cop fairly well, with his leathery face, gruff voice, and harsh demeanor.  Robert would go into the room and, essentially, scare the scare the living daylights out of the suspect.  Harry, in his role as the young, idealistic Auror who still played by the rules, would hold Robert back and force him to leave the room, whereupon he would play confident and protector to the suspect.  The suspect, in turn, would confess everything under the sun to Harry.

That was how the roles normally would be assigned.  But Harry and Robert soon learned that Harry's fame could come in handy.  Harry quickly placed two small candies in his mouth before he and Robert entered the interview room.  Tway looked up at them nervously as they approached either side of him.

"What the hell am I doing here," he blustered.  "Who do you think you are coming into my office and taking me away like that?  I have rights, you know!"

Harry snarled and grabbed Tway by his robes, lifting him bodily from the chair he was sitting in.  "You have the right to shut-the-hell-up!"

"Sheesh Harry," Robert said in an exasperated tone.  "Do you think maybe we can at least _start_ the interview before you resort to frying his brain?"

Tway fearfully looked up at Harry's face.  Harry's eyes were literally crackling with electricity.  Harry glared at Tway for a moment before throwing him back into his chair.  "Fine.  We'll do it your way," Harry sneered before turning around.  As Robert pulled up a chair next to Tway, Harry hid his grin.  Being a part-owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes did have its benefits.  The crackling eyes and other effects were compliments of the genius that is Fred and George Weasley.

"Now Adam, let's be reasonable here," Robert said in his friendliest voice.  "We know something's going on over there at General Magics, something Ernie knew about that got him killed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tway said in a shaky voice, trying to recover his dignity after Harry's treatment.

"Adam," Robert said in a disappointed voice.  "We know about the money."  Tway's eyes widened slightly.  "We have your Gringott's records; we know someone's been paying you.  Save us both a bunch of trouble and just tell us what you know."

But Tway grew resolute.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do, Adam.  Do you really wanna go through all of this?  I can talk to the Consul, we can cut you a deal.  You tell us what we want to know, and we'll be good to you."

"I'm telling you," Tway said in a show of righteous indignation, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Adam-" Robert said.

"That's enough," Harry said quietly, and then turned around to look at Robert.  "You've had your chance, now it's mine."

Robert gave a heavy sigh but backed away.  Harry had an evil grin on his face as he approached Tway.

"Y-you don't scare me," Tway said, obviously scared.  "I-I watch the WWN, I know you don't have your wands!  You can't do any magic to me without them!"

Harry looked down at the cowering man and smirked.  "You think I need a wand to do magic?" he asked.  Harry raised his arms and electricity crackled around his eyes.  A strong wind seemed to emit from Harry, knocking Tway to the ground.  He scrambled to his feet, but was forced against the wall by the strong winds.  The torches that lined the wall flickered in the gusts, only adding to the effect of terror.  Harry was truly a terrible sight: eyes radiating with energy, his black Auror robes swirling behind him, and his hair waving wildly in the wind.

 "Y-you can't hurt me!" Tway screamed over the noise of the wind.  "There's a witness!"

Harry laughed a horrible laugh.  "Do not forget who you're talking to!  I defeated Voldemort when I was only seventeen – what do a bunch of paper pushers compare to him?  And whom do you think people will believe?  I am Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world!  What are you?  You think people are gonna care what I do to you?  You think people are gonna care that you accidentally broke all your fingers and toes?  That you accidentally cut off your own ears?"

Tway sank to the ground, trembling in fear.  Harry leaned over until their faces were inches apart.  "I shall enjoy watching you bleed," he leered.

"No, please!"

Robert struggled through the winds and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "Harry!" he screamed over the noise.  "Don't do this, not again!  I don't know how much longer we can cover for you if you keep mutilating witnesses!  Give me five minutes with him!"

Harry seemed to ignore Robert, and he grabbed Tway by the scruff of his robes and lifted him from the ground.  "Harry!" Robert screamed again, desperation in his voice.  "Five minutes, and if I fail, you can have him!"

Harry looked into Tway's horrorstruck face, who was nodding frantically.  Harry looked over at Robert.  "Five minutes?"

Robert nodded.  "Five minutes."

Harry looked back at Tway.  "Fine.  Five minutes.  But if you can't get him to talk, I get to play with him."  Then, abruptly the winds stopped, his eyes stopped emitting bursts of electricity, and Harry dropped Tway unceremoniously to the ground.  Harry gave one last glare at the shaking man before walking out of the interview room.  Harry probably should feel bad about reducing a once proud man into a quivering pile of goo, scaring him so badly he probably lost control of one or more bodily functions.  But Harry _knew _that Tway, as he knew with all the suspects he played his role to, was hiding something criminal from them.

"God Harry, you scared me so bad I think I have to change my knickers!" Tonks said as Harry joined the group observing the interview room.  Harry chuckled.

"Never seen Harry at work before?" Price asked her.

Tonks shook her head.  "First time, and boy, it was a doozy.  Remind me to never cross you again Harry."

"If you think I was good, just watch Robert.  You won't even recognize him; he plays the friendly uncle role very well."

The group turned their attention back to the interview room.  While they had joked, Tway had returned to his seat, looking rather disheveled.

"So," Robert said after taking a seat next to Tway, "are you alright?  Do you need some water or anything?"

Tway shook his head vigorously.  "He's crazy, absolutely out of his mind!  Did you see him?  He was gonna kill me!"

Robert gently placed his hand on Tway's shoulder, who flinched at the contact.  "Easy there Adam, he's gone now.  It's going to be okay."

"Okay?  Okay!?!  He's a bloody maniac that one is!"

Robert gave a heavy sigh and looked uncomfortable.  "He's not, it's just that…well, you have to understand…"

"What?  What do I have to understand?" Tway said, still clearly shaken.

Robert leaned forward.  "Promise you won't tell?"  Tway nodded.  "Well, Harry's normal most of the time, but sometimes, he just goes a little…psycho."

"A _little_?!" Tway asked incredulously.

Robert nodded.  "We think that…okay, you know how You-Know-Who didn't die the first time?  Well, we think that when Harry finished him off, to make sure You-Know-Who wouldn't come back, he absorbed some of him."

Tway's eyes were as wide as saucers.  "Absorbed?" he asked quietly.

Robert nodded gravely.  "Yeah.  It would explain all the dark power he has, and how sometimes he can torture suspects without any feelings of remorse."

"T-Torture?" Tway, asked.

"Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have said that.  Anyways, we've tried to talk to him about it, but what are we going to do?  He's _Harry Potter_.  So, we overlook all the dismembering, er, forget I said that, and hope he doesn't go all dark lord on us."  Robert and Tway sat silently for a moment, Tway literally shaking in his chair, Robert putting on the look of a despondent man.  Finally Robert made a sudden movement to check his watch, which startled Tway.

"Oh no!  We only have two minutes before Harry gets back.  C'mon Tway, talk to me.  I'm tired of cleaning up the bloodstains," Robert said, gesturing towards the dark coffee stains on the ground.

"I'm telling you," Tway pleaded, "I don't know anything!  I…"

"You what?  Tway, I've done everything I can for you.  Next time Harry comes in, I won't be able to do anything to stop him."

Tway looked ready to burst into tears.  "I swear, I didn't know they were going to kill him!"

"Who was?  Who killed Ernie?"

Tway leaned over and buried his head in his hands.  Harry looked at the others.  "That's my cue."  Harry walked over and opened the door to the interview room.

"God, Harry!" Robert said in an anguished voice.  Tway jolted up as if electrocuted, staring at Harry in fear.  "Give me five more minutes Harry, I almost have something."

"Almost?  Almost?  Not good enough.  I'll get the information out of him in two minutes, assuming he can stay conscious from the pain that long," Harry said evilly.

"No wait!" Tway screamed.  "I swear I didn't know about the murder.  I only did what he told me to do!"

Robert turned to Tway.  "Who?  Who told you?"

"I don't know!  I've never seen him before, we communicate by owl!"

"What did he tell you to do?"  Robert asked.  Tway paused, and Harry took a step into the room.  "Work with me here Tway.  I can't stop Harry if he decides to do something."

"A-All I have to do is ignore certain complaints, that's it, I swear!  Once a month he sends me an owl with money and a list of components to ignore.  That's all!"

"That's all?" Robert asked dubiously.  "What about Ernie?  How did he get involved?"

"E-Ernie wouldn't listen to me.  I told him I would take care of the complaints, but he kept asking questions."

"So you killed him!" Harry growled.

"No!  No!  I just sent an owl saying he was asking questions!  I didn't know they were going to kill him, I swear it!  I thought it was a Muggle killing!"

"Who's they?" Harry asked harshly.

"I don't know!" Tway cried out.  Harry glared at him in the eyes, and he believed him.

"What about Don Campbell?  How did he get involved?" Robert asked.

"Who?  Campbell?"

"He was a manager at Magical Solutions, and he was killed this past weekend."

What color that remained in his face drained away.  "Oh God," he whispered.

"What did you do!?" Harry demanded.

"I didn't know!  We hadn't hired a replacement for Ernie yet; Campbell kept calling me, complaining about our merchandise!"

"Why didn't you just deal with it, send him replacements?"

"I couldn't; my boss would get suspicious if I suddenly replaced an entire inventory!"

"So you sent another owl?" Harry asked, though it was more of a statement.

"Yes, but you have to believe me I didn't know they were going to kill him!"

Harry and Robert traded a look.  Harry inclined his head fractionally towards the door, and the two walked out without another word to the sobbing Tway.  Captain Perry met them at the door.  "Looks like we have a lot to talk about boys," he said.

"What about him?" Harry asked, jerking his thumb at the door to the interview room.

"Put him in a detention cell for the night.  Since the team's already here, we'll take a conference room somewhere and talk about what to do next."  Harry walked towards the entrance of the dungeons to arrange for the incarceration of Adam Tway.  As he walked, Harry knew that the Captain was right: they had a lot to talk about, a lot of new information.  But Harry was also excited; he had the feeling he usually got when they got a big break on a case.

**A/N**: Uh oh, I've got a problem.  It's not writer's block, but unfortunately by throwing in Cedric's memorial out of nowhere, my timeline is all messed up!  It's only Wednesday story-wise, and if the case breaks now, Harry won't be able to go to the memorial on Saturday!  So, the next chapter may be delayed while I think of new ways for Harry to pass the week.

I do have a request to all my readers: Help!  As you know, Harry will be going to Cedric's memorial soon.  Since I'm not very creative (just look at the names of my original characters; anyone see the pattern?), I would appreciate any ideas/suggestions for occupations of Hogwarts alumni, mostly those from Harry's year and above, and especially the Hufflepuffs.

**Risty**: thanks for the tidbit; I used Consul where I had prosecutor before.  I won't have a trial though, since, well, nevermind ;)

**BlackDiva**: Harry and Hermione (and the Rickster) will have a lovely weekend.  Then, something will happen that will cause Harry and Hermione to spend a lot of time together.

**HeeroTomoe**: I wasn't planning on having Draco appear in the story, but now that you mentioned it, maybe I will.  Already, I sense an idea forming…


	11. No Answers, More Questions

**12/5/03:  **Ok, before I went to bed I thought about things for Harry to do for the next couple of days and came up with some stuff.  I usually come up with ideas while trying to sleep; good in that I get ideas, bad in that I don't get my sleep!  Anyways, this is a short chapter, really just a filler to finish up Harry's Wednesday night.  

**11. No Answers, More Questions******

After Harry ensured that Tway would have a nice cell to spend the night in, he took the lift to the MLE level and entered the same conference room that he had been in only two days ago.  Although the rest of the team was there, Captain Perry wasn't in the room, meaning that the meeting hadn't yet started.  Harry found a seat by Robert, who was in a discussion with Tonks.  Harry poured himself a glass of water and listened as the two talked about the case.  Before Harry could voice his opinions, Captain Perry entered the room, bringing the meeting to a start.

"All right, settle down people," Perry said as he took the seat at the head of the table.  He looked up at the assembled Aurors and smiled.  "Looks like we all enjoyed the Toms and Potter show earlier, _and_ we managed to get some information out of the little twit.  Okay, so far, we know that Tway has been in contact with someone, we don't know whom, who regularly pays him off to ignore certain complaints.  We also know he informed the mystery man or men about Mediate and Campbell, likely resulting in their deaths.  So…what do we do about it?"

Robert shrugged.  "Tway seems to confirm that there is a link between the Campbells and Mediate murders, but it's hard to say what happens next.  As I see it, we have two questions to answer: who is paying off Tway, and why."

"What about Tway himself?" Brad Casey asked.

Robert turned to look at Casey.  "Despite what we just heard, there's not a lot we can do there.  Yes, he accepted money, and yes, he informed on Campbell and Mediate, but there's no proof that he did anything criminal."

"No proof?  What about the dead bodies?" Casey asked, mystified.

Clarke piped up.  "Right now we can't prove that whoever received Tway's owls actually killed the Campbells and Mediate, and even if we could, we can't prove that Tway knew that they would be killed.  Anyways, from his interrogation, it looks like he didn't know.  The only thing we can prove is that Tway took bribes to overlook certain problems.  To be honest, right now it's more an issue for General Magics then for us."

As Harry listened to the discussion around him, his good feelings about the case began to disappear.  Even though they broke Tway, he didn't really give them anything concrete – just more questions and theories to consider.  "So what do we do now?" he asked.

Captain Perry spoke.  "I think it goes back to what Robert said at the beginning.  We have two questions that we need to answer: who is Tway talking to?  And why is Tway being paid off?  If we can answer those questions, then we'll probably learn why Mediate and the Campbells were killed."

Tonks leaned forward, accidentally knocking over her cup of tea.  She quickly cleaned the mess with a wave of her wand.  "I think I have a solution for the first question.  It's a simple matter to trace an owl, no matter where it goes.  All we have to do is have Tway send another owl to his mysterious benefactor, and we'll follow it back."

Captain Perry nodded thoughtfully.  "Sounds good…but how do we make sure Tway sends an owl?"

Harry chuckled.  "I don't think it'll be a problem.  Robert and I can have a talk with him and convince him that it's in his best interest.  We'll cut him a deal.  We can even tell him to owl the truth: that he was taken into custody and questioned by Aurors.  It's probably something he would have owled anyways."

"Okay, what about the second question?  The Why?  Is Tway keeping anything from us?"

Robert looked over at Harry, raising an eyebrow in an unasked question.  Harry shook his head.  "I don't believe that Tway knows anything beyond what he's already told us," Robert said.  "He's a dead end.  What we should do is take a look at all the components on the latest list that was sent to Tway.  Have the boys in Forensics take a look at them to see if there are any problems.  Although…"

"Although?"

Robert sighed.  "I don't imagine General Magics will be too keen on the idea of a team of Forensics Aurors swarming over their plant, _especially_ since we don't have any hard evidence that points to criminal activity."

"You do have a point about that," Perry said.  "Perhaps we can just focus on the complaints he was to ignore.  General Magics probably has a warehouse full of faulty appliance that we can take a look at.  Clarke?  Take a look into it."  After Clarke acknowledged the order, Perry continued.  "Along those lines, what do we do with Tway?  Do we keep him?"

Harry shook his head.  "We can offer him his freedom in exchange for the owl.  He doesn't have to know that we don't have enough to hold him anyways."

"All right.  Do we tell General Magics about what we found?"

"I don't think so," Clarke said.  "If we tell General Magics, they'll probably fire him.  Even if they don't, we don't know who else is involved and what might happen if _they_, whoever _they_ are, find out that we're on to them."

"You don't think they'll be suspicious if we have a team of Aurors looking over their warehouses?" Casey asked.

"Argh.  Good point Brad," Harry said.  "Instead of the faulty appliances at General Magics, maybe we can take a look at the ones over at Magical Solutions.  I mean, it's Campbell's complaints about them that lead to his death."

"Okay, we'll do it that way then," Perry said.  "If we don't find anything at Magical Solutions, then we'll consider going to General Magics.  Toms, go out there tomorrow with a forensics team to check it out."  Toms nodded, and then a silence descended on the group.  "Is that it?  Do we have all our bases covered?"  

"What about Tway?" Harry asked.

"I thought we covered that, Potter.  You're going to convince him to send an owl-"

"No sir, I mean what happens to him afterwards?  When he's free?"

"Ah okay, I see what you're getting at.  Okay, Clarke, you and Casey work with Tonks and set up surveillance on him."

"Got it," Clarke said, exchanging a nod with Tonks.

"Now, is that it?  Anything else?"  When no one responded in the negative, Perry stood, causing the others to stand as well.  "All right then.  Toms, Potter, get Tway to send that owl tomorrow.  Tonks, follow that owl.  Toms, check out Magical Solutions.  Clarke, watch Tway.  Keep me updated."

*********************************

Harry and Robert made their way to the detention cells, where they found Tway sitting quietly on a bench.  He stood up when he noticed them approaching.  "No, not you two again!  Get away from me, leave me alone!"

Harry chuckled while Robert looked apologetic.  "Relax Mr. Tway.  We're not here to hurt you – _right_ Harry? – we're here to offer you a deal."

"A…a deal?" Tway asked, looking nervously between Robert and Harry.

"Yes, a deal.  You do something for us, and we'll get you out of here."

Apparently, Tway found a new source of courage.  "And what makes you think I'd do _anything_ for you?" he demanded indignantly.  His angry countenance disappeared when Harry made a sort of a growling noise.

Robert shot Harry a look of exasperation before addressing Tway.  "Believe me, Adam," he said in friendly voice, "you'll like what we have to offer; you won't have to do much."

"A-All right," Tway said, clearly cowed again by Harry.  "I'm listening."

"All you have to do to get out of here is send another owl like you did before."

"Just send an owl?" Tway asked, confused.  Then he paled, and not from Harry's glares.  "Wait a minute!  If they find out that I sent an owl for you, they'll kill me like they killed Ernie!"

Robert shook his head.  "They won't know a thing, Adam.  We won't tamper with the owl at all.  Just send an owl saying that Aurors questioned you, but that you didn't know anything and we had to let you go.  You'd send that anyways, wouldn't you?  I mean, you can't keep the fact that we picked you up a secret."

"But-"

"We can protect you, Adam." Robert said, very seriously.

"I don't know-" 

"Listen Tway!" Harry said suddenly, causing Tway to emit a small squeak.  "Either you-"

"Okay okay!  I'll do it!" Tway said, interrupting Harry.  A flicker of surprise and disappointment crossed Harry's face – he wouldn't get to play bad cop.

Robert smiled.  "Good, very good.  You made the right decision Adam, you won't regret it."

Harry understood that now was the time for him to leave and let Robert work a different kind of magic with Tway.  Still in character, Harry turned away in disgust and left them.  Although Harry wanted to be there as they discussed the details of the owl, he knew that Tway would be too frightened if Harry remained.  He made his way back to the bullpen where he occupied himself with paperwork, accounts of the interview and such.  After about an hour, Robert showed up.  "It's all set up," he said with a grin as he took his seat opposite of Harry.

Harry looked up from his parchment.  "He's going to send the letter?"

"Yup, first thing tomorrow.  He'll spend the night in detention; looks more real that way.  When he gets back into the office, he'll send the letter and Tonks and her crew will be on its tail, figuratively and literally."

"And protection?"

"Clarke, Price, and Casey will handle that.  I talked to Tonks briefly, and it sounds like Verplank's murder is still cold – no new leads or clues.  So, instead they're going to concentrate on the owl and on watching Tway."

Harry nodded and turned back to his paperwork.  It took him only another five minutes to finish it up, whereupon he handed the stack of parchments to Robert.  "You're turn," he said.  Robert accepted the stack wordlessly; both Aurors hated paperwork, so no comment was necessary.  Harry stood and stretched, stifling a yawn.

Robert looked up at him. "Why don't you knock off for the night?  It's been a long day."

Harry gave him a half-smile and checked the clock on the wall.  It was nearing 10pm.  "No argument from me.  I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night Harry," Robert said as he started scratching away with his quill.

Harry said his good byes to Robert and the other Aurors still at work (or waiting on the wheel) and floo'ed home for a good night's sleep.

**A/N**: Not much to say.  Hope everyone has a great weekend!  Next chapter will be longer: Harry goes to Magical Solutions, and then goes out with some new old friends (part of the whole "moving on" process).  Still gratefully accepting any ideas on alumni careers.

**Rocky235**: Hehe, I can only imagine Draco as a Muggle priest.  Don't worry, I have a small cameo ready for him.

**Risty**: You made me laugh when I read your suggestion on how I can fill the days 'til Saturday  :)

**HeeroTomoe**: I'm glad you liked the chapter; I had fun writing a mean Harry.  And thanks for the help on the alumni.  Anymore ideas?  

**sethro72**: Unfortunately the quote is true, but I'm not worried.  It was in a chat about Book 4, and since nothing happened between Ron and Hermione in Book 5, it's no biggie.  Besides, IMHO I think it's referring the Ron's one-sided feelings for Hermione.  There isn't an "e" at the end of Voldemort; it would make the name feminine, if I remember my French from high school correctly.  I'll put in a half-serious showdown/memory between them while Harry's at the service; I say half-serious because the way I think it will end is in my first story, so I've used up my final battle scene already.  You can find _Betrayed _on my profile under favorite stories (right now at #25 since it hasn't been updated in a while.  Author ID is 9744)

**szelij**: wow, lots of reviews in a row!  I definitely don't mind it - I love it!  But if Harry dies at the end, how could there be a sequel ;)


	12. Dead Ends and New Beginnings

**12/8/03:  **Hello!  Hope everyone had a nice weekend.  This one is kinda long and wandering.  I hope there aren't too many grammar errors, and I apologize in advance for them.

**12. Dead Ends and New Beginnings******

Harry awoke the next morning feeling refreshed.  For the first time in a long while, Harry had an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep, and it felt nice; Harry attributed his good sleep to the fact that he had been too exhausted to dream.  As Harry was pulling his robes from the closet, he heard a familiar voice call his name.  Quickly donning his Auror robes, Harry walked to the fireplace, which had a roaring fire of green, and kneeled on the pillows arrayed before the fireplace so he could stick his head into the green flames.  After a second to orient himself, Harry looked up at the looming face before him.  Robert was using his mobile, which had the effect of making the world look extremely big to Harry.  "What's up?"

"Did I wake you?" Robert asked dryly.

Harry made face.  "You _know_ I'm not a morning person.  Besides, I was up anyways.  What's going on?"

"There's no point in you going to the Ministry.  I checked, and there's nothing that needs our attention.  I'll call Haas and let him know we're coming.  Meet me at Magical Solutions in an hour.  Okay?"

Harry automatically moved to check his watch, but as his head was in one place and his body was in another, he couldn't.  "All right, one hour.  See you there."  Harry pulled his head out of the fire and sighed, still kneeling on the pillows.  He was ready to go, and now he had an hour to waste!  After a minute of weighing his options, Harry decided to spend the hour in Diagon Alley.  While a stroll through Diagon Alley would carry its standard inconveniences – namely being recognized – Harry was feeling more…outgoing since he poured out his soul to Ron.  Standing up, Harry concentrated and apparated to Diagon Alley.

With a small pop, Harry appeared on the street in front of the stationary shop next to Flourish  & Blott's.  A witch and her toddler daughter gave a tiny shriek when he appeared out of thin air right in front of them, and Harry apologized profusely.  At first, the witch was upset, but a quick picture with the famous Harry Potter for her daughter quickly set things right.  Harry smiled at the star-struck young girl and the grateful mother and waved goodbye.  Sometimes, not often, but sometimes Harry enjoyed his fame.  A very shy and unassuming person by nature (and nurture, or lack there of by the Dursleys), Harry's fame sometimes allowed him to meet genuinely nice people.  Of course, times like these were more than made up for by the stalkers, groupies, reporters, and autograph hounds.  Harry's eyes wandered up and down Diagon Alley as he watched all the wizards and witches walk about until his eyes fell on Eeylops Owl Emporium, which was right across the street.

Harry grew melancholy.  Seeing all the owls hooting proudly from their cages in the window reminded Harry of the second friend, after Hagrid, that he ever had: Hedwig.  He found that although it was often easy to forget about her (**A/N**: as the author did until this very moment), whenever he did, he missed her terribly.  Although Harry's need for Hedwig had decreased considerably once Harry hired a firm to take care of his mail, she was still a faithful and loving pet.  But though Hedwig clearly loved Harry, he could tell that not being used as an owl should be was depressing the bird.  Since Hedwig also showed an affinity for Hermione, and since Hermione would need an owl more than Harry, he gave Hedwig to Hermione when they dissolved their relationship.  Now, seeing all the birds reminded Harry of Hedwig, who reminded Harry of Hermione, which made Harry feel a little wistful.

Harry decided that browsing through Flourish & Blott's would be a great way to pass the time.  He walked through the store and looked at various titles.  Thankfully, the store wasn't very busy at this time of the morning and no one came up to Harry, who only received the customary awestruck glances.  Finding nothing that sparked his interest, Harry left the store and checked his watch, surprised and disappointed to find that he still had half an hour left.  Harry frowned, wondering if visiting Diagon Alley was such a good idea.  His spirits lifted when he spotted Fortescue's across the street; though it was still early, perhaps an ice cream sundae would brighten his day.

Harry crossed the street and took a seat on the outside patio.  Since it wasn't busy, a nervous young witch walked up to him and took his order, before practically fleeing.  Harry grinned; he knew she was a bit edgy because of his Auror robes and couldn't bring herself to look him in the face.   He wondered idly how different her reaction would be if she knew he was Harry Potter.  A minute later, she returned with his order and a Daily Prophet, which he paid for.  Harry snapped open the newspaper and began to read as he savored his sundae.

"Well, if it isn't the great Harry Potter," he heard someone say, interrupting his rare moment of peace.  Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet to see Rick Nelson standing over him.  "Mind if I sit?" he asked, and then took a seat without waiting for an answer.

Harry regarded the burly wizard for a moment.  There really wasn't a _good_ reason why he should dislike Rick so much, though there were plenty of petty and irrational ones.  Harry affixed a smile on his face.  "Good to see you Rick.  What brings you to Diagon Alley?"

"Just my day off.  What about you?  Shouldn't you be off saving the world?" he asked snidely.

Rick's tone caught Harry's attention, and he began to wonder if he would finally have his good reason to dislike the dragon-keeper.  "I have about half an hour before an appointment in Diagon Alley.  Is something bothering you?"

"Wow, I'm honored that the legendary Harry Potter would lower himself to talk to someone like me," he said, with exaggerated courtesy.

Harry bristled in irritation.  "All right, that's enough.  What's your problem, Rick?" 

"What's my problem?  What's _my_ problem?" Rick asked, leaning forward, all hint of politeness gone.  "You're my problem Potter.  You and your attitude!"

Although Harry was growing angry at the whole conversation, he was also confused.  "What the hell are you going on about?  How could you possibly have a problem with my so-called attitude when we hardly ever speak?"

Rick snorted.  "I'm not talking about me.  I'm talking about _Hermione_."

Harry felt himself deflate.  "Hermione," he said weakly.

"Yes, Hermione!" Rick said angrily.  "When I went to see her on Monday she was a mess; she wouldn't even leave her flat.  She told me…well, she didn't tell me specifics, but she told me she talked to you.  It doesn't take a genius to figure out _you_ did something!"

"Good thing for you, since you're no genius," Harry muttered automatically.

"What did you say?" Rick bellowed, standing up.  By now, his loud voice had attracted a number of people.

Harry's feelings of guilt over his treatment of Hermione disappeared, to be replaced by irritation at Rick's behavior.  "Listen Rick.  What happened between Hermione and me is exactly that: between Hermione and me.  It's none of your business, and if you think I'm going to apologize to _you_, then think again."

"I'm making it my business.  Hermione's my girlfriend.  You hurt her, you deal with me," he said threateningly, trying to use his size to intimidate Harry.

Harry looked up at Rick, and all of a sudden started laughing.  Harry had been threatened by the best of them: Death Eaters, hardened criminals, murders, kidnappers, desperate wizards who would rather die then get caught, and, of course, Voldemort.  Did Rick actually believe that he could scare Harry?  Though he was admittedly a large man, he didn't at all compare to the men who have threatened Harry in the past.  The very idea that Rick thought Harry would be cowed into an apology caused Harry to break out in uncontrollable laughter.

Harry's burst of laughter seemed to unnerve Rick for a moment, but then he seemed to grow even angrier at being laughed at.  Rick reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar of his robes.  Harry's laughter died immediately.  He looked down at Rick's hands, clutched at his robes, and then looked back up at Rick.  "Let – me – go," he said slowly and calmly.

"Sod off Potter.  Either you apologize or I'll make you apologize!"

Harry's eyes narrowed, and a force like an electric shock flowed through his body, making it impossible for Rick to continue to hold on to him.  It was just another example of the unexplainable that characterized Harry's life; Harry first exhibited this particular power in the summer before his fifth year on his Uncle Vernon.  Since then, it's come in handy on several occasions.  Rick looked back at Harry with wide eyes, surprise clearly etched across his face.  Harry looked at Rick, but did not bother to rise from his seat.  "I'm not interested in hurting you Rick, though it _is_ tempting.  Now, I'll say this once, and once only: whatever is between Hermione and myself is _none_ of you business.  This is your final and only warning."  Despite his boyish looks and his unassuming manner, Harry could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, even without the aid of a Fred and George creation.  Rick involuntarily backed up a step, a look of trepidation coming over his face.  His mouth opened and closed several times, but no sounds emerged.

"And let me add my own warning," a gruff voice suddenly broke the silence.  Harry looked over to see Robert approaching, leading a small crowd of folks.  Robert walked right up to Rick and stared him in the eye.  "Assaulting an Auror will get you five to fifteen years in Azkaban.  Although I know Harry here would never use the fact that he's an Auror against you, _I_ have absolutely no problem with sending you away, whoever you are.  Now, I suggest that you leave immediately before I decide Azkaban could use one more resident."  Rick needed no further encouragement.  Without even a glance at Harry, he set off at a brisk trot in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.  "What was that all about?" Robert asked him, concern in his voice.

Harry sighed.  "_That_ was Rick Nelson."  

Comprehension dawned on Robert's face, and then a grin.  "I bet you've wanted to do that for a long time now."

Harry gave him a half-smile.  "Yes, it was rather satisfying, but I can only imagine what he'll tell Hermione when they see each other.  Probably tell her I'm a raving lunatic who threatened him."

"Ah well, it won't be the first time people thought you were crazy, right?"

Harry chuckled.  "No, it won't.  So, we ready?"

Robert nodded, and inclined his head at the people behind him.  "Yeah, forensics was most accommodating.  I got a whole team."

Harry quickly polished off the last spoonful (a very large spoonful) of his ice cream and stood.  "A _whole_ team?  I was expecting maybe one or two investigators," Harry said as they walked towards Magical Solutions.

"Me too, but it looks like Garcia wants to make up for the Campbell incident.  Ah, here we are."

Harry chuckled as he held the door open for Robert and the forensics team to enter Magical Solutions.  Harry followed them in and saw that Haas, the owner of the shop, was already in conversation with Robert.

"Ah, Detective Potter, a pleasure to see you again," Haas gushed as Harry joined them.  "As I was telling Detective Toms here, per your request I have placed all the faulty appliances in the back room ready for your inspection.  I hope it helps you find the monsters that killed Don," Haas said, a look of anger on his face.

"I do too, Mr. Haas.  Thank you for all your help," Robert said.  Haas led the way to where the faulty appliances were housed, and then politely made his exit.  Robert addressed the forensics team.  "All right boys, you know what to do."

Harry watched the forensics team unpack their equipment before he realized that he didn't have anything to do.  A confused look on his face, Harry turned to Robert.  "Er, so what do _we_ do now?"

Robert gave him an embarrassed smile.  "Well, frankly I had expected us to spend the afternoon helping the one or two forensics Aurors with this, but since we have a whole team, our help is obviously not needed.  In fact, we'd probably just get in the way."

A look from one of the investigators confirmed Robert's statement.  "So basically, we have nothing to do?"

"Basically," Robert affirmed.  "Want to head back to the office?"

Harry shook his head.  "You said there's nothing really there for us to do, and besides, the Captain will probably just make us do some administrative junk."

"All right, good point.  So…"

"So I guess we treat this like a stake-out," Harry said.  "Got any cards?" 

*********************************

Four hours later, after several games of wizard's poker (where Harry tried his best not to misuse his legilimens abilities), a light lunch, and reading the Quibbler, a forensics Auror found them and informed Robert and Harry that the analysis was complete.   Harry walked into the back room where the team was gathered, wondering if they had finally found their "big break."  One look at the face of David Harrington, the lead forensic investigator, told him that they hadn't.  Harrington handed them each a small pipe once they entered the room.  Harry examined it then looked at him expectantly.  "That's basically all we found," Harrington said in response to their unspoken question.  

"What is it?" Harry asked, holding up the pipe.

"Well, it depends on the appliance.  For the washers, it's the pipe that leads from the water source to the appliance.  For the stoves, it's part of the charmed heating element.  For the-"

"All right, all right.  But what does it mean?" Robert interrupted.

"Here, look at this," Harrington said, picking up a pipe from a pile on the ground.  Harry and Robert leaned forward and Harrington pointed at a part of the pipe with the tip of his wand.  "See this?  This area here is corroded fairly badly.  Under normal use, a pipe like this should last the lifetime of the product, but here, on these appliances, the pipe has corroded already, causing the various problems."

Harry's spirits deflated slightly as he remembered some of the theories tossed around last night.  "So, all you've found is a cheap pipe?"

Harrington nodded.  "That's the gist of it.  These pipes were made out of a cheaper metal then the others and simply broke down, causing the problem."  Seeing the disappointed looks on the two detectives, Harrington continued.  "Sorry detectives, I wish I had better news for you.  We ran an analysis on every appliance back here, using every method available to us, and we just didn't find anything else suspicious."

"All right.  Thanks for everything guys," Robert said dejectedly.  The forensics team packed up their equipment and left the room, leaving Harry and Robert alone.

"So…" Harry said.

"So," Robert agreed.

"A dead end?"

"Looks like it."

"All right.  Let's get back and tell everyone the bad news."

*********************************

Harry and Robert went to the Ministry (Harry by apparition, Robert by floo) where they told the rest of the team the bad news.  Their discovery seemed to confirm that they were looking nothing more sinister than a bribery scheme to cover up shoddy materials.  The team was, of course, disappointed, but they held out hope that the owl that Tway sent that morning would bring them new leads.  Harry and Robert spent the rest of the afternoon filling out paperwork and briefing their Captain.  Finally, quitting time arrived, and Harry left the bullpen feeling that he had a rather unproductive and disappointing day.  If not for scaring the daylights out of Rick, the entire day would have been a wash.  As Harry stepped off of the lift and into the Ministry atrium, he spotted a familiar face standing outside the security screen.  "Hey Susan," Harry said cheerfully as he checked out.  "What are you doing here?  That's twice in one week!"

Susan Bones smiled.  "Oh!  Hi Harry!  I'm waiting for Auntie Amelia.  We're going out for dinner."  Her smile was replaced by a pout as she checked the large clock on the wall.  "But she's already five minutes late."

"Want some company until she arrives?" Harry asked.

Susan nodded, and the two Hogwarts alumni traded small talk, Harry asking about Belgium where she worked for Floo Incorporated, the multi-national corporation that invented the entire floo concept.  As they chatted, none other than Ernie Macmillan exited from the security screen with a disgruntled look on his face.

"Ernie!" Susan exclaimed.  "What's wrong?"

Ernie looked up in surprise, and then smiled when he saw the two.  "Susan!  Harry!  How are you guys doing?  What are you doing here Susan?"

"She's waiting for Madam Bones, and I'm keeping her company.  You all right?  You looked ready to kill someone a second ago."

Ernie shrugged.  "Just a bad day, that's all.  One of those days when the work keeps piling up and you never get anything accomplished."

Harry nodded in sympathy.  "I know what you mean."  Then, to Harry's dismay, Susan asked Ernie what happened.  This, of course, was the opening Ernie was looking for, and he began a litany of the many things that troubled his day.  Ernie was still ranting when Harry spotted Madam Bones as she came out.  Harry straightened as his boss's boss's boss approached. 

"Madam Bones," Harry said politely.

Ernie seemed to puff out his chest a little.  "Hello, Madam Bones," he echoed in a formal tone.

"Ah, hello Harry, Ernie.  Good to see you both," she said.  "I'm sorry Susan, I won't be able to go to dinner with you; I just have too much work."

Susan looked disappointed.  "It's okay, I understand.  Maybe you can come over to the house for lunch?  I'm sure Mum and Dad would love to see you."

Amelia smiled.  "Of course.  I'll owl them and set something up.  I really am sorry honey."

"It's fine, really.  Just don't work to hard," Susan said.  They exchanged a hug and Madam Bones went back through the security screen.  Susan looked at the two boys.  "Ah well, sorry for making you wait for nothing."

Ernie looked at her.  "Ah, chin up there Bones!  Just because you can't eat with your Aunt doesn't mean it's the end of the world.  Harry and I will take you out.  What do you say, eh Potter?  You ditched us the last time, so you owe us."

Susan brightened.  "Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea.  Harry?  Please say you'll go."

Harry looked from Ernie to Susan, who looked back at Harry with hopeful eyes.  Harry found he didn't have an excuse not to go, as his only plan for the night was to sulk a while before going to bed.  "All right," he found himself saying, "let's go.  We'll have a great time."

The three decided to eat in Diagon Alley, as none of them was carrying enough Muggle money for a Muggle restaurant.  Harry found himself strangely relaxed as they ate, a feeling similar to the one that he had while dining with Luna and her adorable little daughter.  Although Susan and Ernie naturally asked Harry about his work, it seemed more out natural curiosity then the desire to hear stories about the legendary Harry Potter.  As Harry pondered why he was having such a good time, he realized that he was enjoying their company because there was no emotional baggage attached to the two Hufflepuffs.  With Ron, Ginny, or any of the others that he normally socialized with, there was always some emotional scar that they liked to pick at, whether it was asking about Hermione or just some painful memory that would be reawakened.  But with Susan and Ernie, things were _almost _normal.  Although they treated him a little differently, like a celebrity, it wasn't to the point that strangers would.  He was still the same Harry Potter they've known for years.  

But as Harry watched Susan giggle as they teased her about one thing or another, he also realized he missed have a female friend.  To be sure, there was Ginny, but she was too much like a sister, and a tomboy one at that.  Harry considered Susan as he pretended to look over the dessert menu.  Though many of the witches who have thrown themselves at Harry in past had been prettier and…curvier, Susan was inarguably a pretty witch.  But Harry's foremost concern wasn't physical beauty (though he would not discount its importance).  True, he didn't have any romantic inclinations towards her, but that didn't mean that he never would.  Regardless, he knew that even thinking about _considering_ another witch as more than a friend was a step in the right direction, and that thought made Harry believe there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

**A/N**: Sorry that not a whole lot happened here, but I'm just filling in chapters until the next break in the case occurs.  Still accepting any suggestions on Hogwarts alumni :)

**sethro72**: Yeah, I haven't seen anything that says Hermione likes Ron.  True, there's that kiss before Ron's first Quidditch match, but I believe it was more to distract him from the Slytherins then anything else, rather than a spontaneous act.  Besides, there's plenty of opportunity for Hermione to provide comfort to Ron while he's all depressed about his keeper skills, but she doesn't.  I'm not even sure Ron likes Hermione anymore, since after the kiss he was "puzzled," not elated or happy or smiling or whatever.  My theory about his jealousy is in the full ending of my story Decisions of Fate.  I dunno about Luna though…her appearance is just a little _too_ convenient, if you know what I mean.

**Akuma-sama**: I wouldn't say Susan has caught Harry's fancy, but that doesn't mean Hermione won't be jealous… grins

**HeeroTomoe**: I like the suggestion about Justin.  Funny thing with him, I keep picturing him in a certain way because of Lori's _Paradigm of Uncertainty_.****

**hahfe**: no big H/Hr moments yet (way too much to be resolved first) but next chapter there _will_ be a tiny, itsy-bitsy H/Hr moment.

**Façade1**: Hey!  You can't start a brand new story when you've got at least two others that need finishing.  Don't make me organize the villagers and start a riot starts gathering torches and pitchforks


	13. Mending Fences

**12/22/03:  **Whoa, where the heck have I been?  Two weeks since my last update?  Gah!  Apologies, but here's a nice long chapter to make up for it.

**13. ****Mending Fences**

Although Harry had gone to bed with a pleasant attitude, he woke up the next morning in a foul mood.  In the harsh light of the morning sun, Harry could see that his case was going nowhere.  Despite all the progress made thus far, the discoveries and the leads, Harry was up against a brick wall without any idea how to get past it.  Added to that, tonight was the big dinner for Cedric's memorial; without any leads to work on, Harry wouldn't have an excuse to avoid going.  

Harry arrived at the bullpen an hour later and found Robert, as usual, already at his desk, scratching away at a parchment.  "Morning Robert."

"Morning Harry.  Have a good night?  I heard you went out on a date with the boss' daughter last night," Robert responded, a mischievous grin on his face.

Harry rolled his eyes.  "It wasn't a date.  We just had dinner with a guy we went to school with from the DAC (**A/N**: the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes).  It wasn't anything big."

"Oh," Robert said, and he surprised Harry by looking genuinely disappointed at hearing that Harry hadn't gone out on a date.

"So, any word from S&I on Tway's owl?" Harry asked quickly, hoping to change Robert's mood.

"None, and I don't expect there to be for awhile."

"Huh?  Why not?"

Robert rummaged through the piles on his desk until he found the parchment he was looking for and handed it to Harry.  Harry recognized the Tonk's handwriting and started to read her report as he listened with half an ear to Robert.

"After leaving Tway's office, the owl headed west towards the Atlantic.  S&I tracked the owl for about an hour after it went over the ocean, and then it disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Harry asked, looking up from the parchment.

"Yup.  Transatlantic owl posts are a tricky business, as the little beasties seem to use different methods to get across the water.  S&I is trying to figure out what method this owl used, and _after_ that, they'll try and find out where it popped up at the other end and trace its route.   Tonks is very confident that she'll have an answer to us within a couple days."

Harry nodded absently as he finished reading Tonk's report, inwardly marveling at how antiquated so many of the wizarding traditions were, owls in particular.  Muggles had telephones, computers, and next-day mail.  Wizards had fireplaces and owls, both of which took so much more time and trouble (scraped knees and a sore back came to mind) then their Muggle equivalents.  Harry knew that the mobile he wore on his waist was one example of the wizarding world catching up, but those examples were few and far between.  Harry remembered reading about apparating post boxes that instantly delivered letters, but the cost and simple wizarding tradition was slowing down its development and widespread use.  Harry finished reading the parchment and handed it back to Robert.  "All right then.  So, what now?"

Robert shrugged.  "I'm honestly stymied.  I have no idea."

Harry slumped into his chair.  He had, of course, had many cases where he had reached a dead end, perhaps waiting for the results of a test or surveillance, or just hoping a clue would fall into his lap.  But in the past, he had always had a backlog of cases that would keep him busy.  Not today.  With the seemingly grand scale of this case, he and Robert weren't given any others, which left them with nothing to do.  Harry reluctantly reached over to his Inbox and started his least favorite task: paperwork.  

After filling out a seemingly endless stream of reports and responding to various owls, Harry threw the last parchment into his Outbox.  Looking up at the clock, Harry saw that only half the day had passed; it was enough to make a grown man cry.

"Stop sighing like a little baby, you're starting to bug me."

Harry glared at the older man.  "Well, this whole thing is bugging me!  I'm not used to sitting around and having nothing to do; it's usually the problem of having too _much_ to do!"

Robert leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead.  "Yeah, I know what you mean kid.  All I have to say is, enjoy it while it lasts."

Harry snorted.  "Enjoy it while it lasts?"

"I can always ask the Captain to find something for you to do.  I'm sure there's a stray kneazle stuck in a tree somewhere."

Harry raised his hands in surrender.  "No thanks, you win.  No more sighing."  The rest of Harry's day went in much the same way, slow and laborious.  Both Harry and Robert would look up whenever someone entered the bullpen, hoping for news on Tway's owl, but news never came.  As the end of their shift approached, Harry began to feel desperate to find something to do, but for a different reason than boredom.  Robert stood and began to organize his desk.  "C'mon Robert, I'm sure there's something we can do.  Maybe we should take another look at the file?  Another trip to Imagery?  How about we go to Magical Solutions again?"

"Harry, there's nothing for us to do.  The entire day was a waste," Robert said as shrugged into his Auror robes.  

Harry stood quietly for a second.  "Maybe there's a kneazle that needs my help somewhere," he said hopefully.

"Go home, Potter.  They'll let us know when they find anything.  I'll see you Monday, if not sooner."

"All right," Harry said dejectedly.  "I'll see you Monday."  Harry slumped back into his seat, until he realized what he just said.  He sprang out of his chair and chased after Robert, who was halfway to the lift.  "Waitasecond!  Monday?  What about tomorrow?"

"Potter, not only do we have nothing to do, but we've been working everyday for two weeks straight!  Even House Elves get a day off!"

Harry thought a moment.  "They do?"

Robert gave Harry a frustrated look.  "Of course…well…I mean…damn Potter, that's not the point!  It's just a saying!  Now, go home!  Enjoy the weekend."  Robert stepped on the lift and waved at Harry.

Harry stared at the spot where Robert had just been before turning on his heels and heading back to the Bullpen, feeling that life was, once again, conspiring against him.  While two days off normally would sound good, it meant he didn't have an excuse to skip out on the memorial, or on dinner tonight.  After moping pointlessly for a few minutes, Harry snapped open his mobile.  A small green fire ignited, and Harry said "Ronald Weasley" into the flames.  Harry had to wait a few seconds before Ron's tiny little head appeared in his mobile.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed immediately.  "You know I hate it when you call me on this thing!"

Harry chuckled as Ron's head spun about, getting his bearings.  "Sorry, I'll do voice-only next time."

"Thanks, appreciate it," Ron said.  "What's up?"

"We still going to the dinner tonight?"  Ron's head nodded.  "Where do you want to meet up?"

"Why don't you come by here?  Dinner's at a restaurant over here in Hogsmeade since a lot of the guests are staying at Hogwarts for the weekend."

"Not at Michael's Corner, I hope," Harry groaned. 

Ron laughed.  "No, and I hope it's not at some Hufflepuff-themed restaurant either!  You know Hufflepuffs - I'm sure it'll be a nice, normal place."

Harry grinned.  "All right, I'll be over in half an hour or so?"

"Sounds good.  See ya then," Ron said before disappearing.  Harry closed his mobile and stood, getting ready to leave for the day.

*********************************

Ron was correct in his guess – the restaurant that would host the dinner was very nice and very normal.  Harry saw that the entire place had been rented out just for them.  When they entered, a kind of cocktail hour was in progress; white-shirted waiters drifted about carrying trays of appetizers while the people mingled.  Harry and Ron handed checked their robes.

"Hmm, not a lot of familiar faces," Ron said quietly as he looked about the restaurant.

Harry had noticed it too.  As expected, Hufflepuff alumni dominated the room.  Though there were a good number magicals from the other houses sprinkled here and there, all of the non-Hufflepuffs were a few years older Harry and Ron.  It did make sense, as students at Hogwarts generally stuck to those in their house and in their year.  Harry noticed a small ripple of recognition roll over the crowd as he was noticed.  Some small part of Harry was afraid of their reaction, that they would blame Harry for Cedric's death, but he was relived to see no outwardly show of recrimination.

"Oy, there's Fred and George!  And Lee too!" Ron said happily, pointing towards a small group of Gryffindors, most of whom were in Cedric's year.  As they made their way over to them, Harry briefly wondered why Ron had been invited in the first place.  He could somewhat understand his own invitation; after all, Harry was the only living witness to Cedric's murder.  But Ron and Cedric didn't know each other at all, so Harry figured that he was invited because of their well-known friendship.  But if that were true, that would also mean that-

"Hi Ron," he heard her say.

"Hermione!" Ron said happily, giving her a big hug. 

"Harry," she said coolly, after Ron had put her down.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said uncomfortably.  All the people had obscured her, and Rick, from view.  Looking at her now, Harry was filled with a twinge of guilt at how their last conversation had gone and at how terribly he had treated her.   "Rick," he said evenly, looking at the man.

"Harry," he said.  Although Rick tried to his best to appear indifferent, Harry didn't have to use his legilimency skills to see that he was definitely uneasy at Harry's presence.  That pleased Harry.  Despite the obvious tension between Harry, Hermione, and Rick, the small group of Gryffindors exchanged small talk, an easy task as Fred and George had a number of interesting stories to tell about the unexpected results from experimenting new products.  After a few minutes, someone that Harry vaguely remembered as a Hufflepuff three years ahead of him announced that dinner would start shortly.  With that, many of the Gryffindors left the group to claim a few tables, Rick included.  Harry took his opportunity.

"Hermione, wait," he said, gently taking her arm as she was about to leave.

"What?" she asked, without a trace of warmth in her voice.

Harry hesitated slightly under her stare.  "Er, can we talk?  Somewhere private, I mean?"  For a moment, Harry was afraid she would refuse him, but to his great relief, she nodded.  "Perhaps outside?" Harry asked, and led her to the outdoor patio, currently deserted as everyone was inside the building.  Harry gestured towards a table, and they took seats opposite of each other.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Harry took a deep breath.  "I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said, looking at his hands.  "I was a complete and utter git earlier."

"No argument from me."

Harry looked up.  "Listen, what I said before, outside Ginny's, was not true at all.  Your friendship, the years we spent together at Hogwarts and after, were the happiest times of my life."  Hermione looked unconvinced, so Harry plunged forward.  "You know all about my life Hermione, I won't bore you with the details; hell, you were there for most of it.  At Hogwarts, with everything that happened, you saved me Hermione.  Not just my body, you saved my _soul_."  Harry saw Hermione's face soften a fraction, and he decided to switch gears.  "Back at Ginny's, I…I was in a bad place that night."  Harry heard what he said and gave a sardonic chuckle.  "Hell, I was in a bad place that night and every night for the past four years.  I was just angry Hermione, and I took it out on you."

"But why, Harry?  Why are you so angry?  Why have you pushed me away all these years?"

Harry found he couldn't look her in the eyes anymore.  It was hard, what he was doing – admitting weakness.  The Great Harry Potter had always been seen in a certain light by the wizarding world, and after a while, it became a part of the real Harry.  Ever since his introduction to the wizarding world, Harry had struggled to show only strength, never show weakness.   But here and now, to Hermione, he had to show weakness.  "I…it's because…it hurt, Hermione, seeing you with him."

"Him who?  You mean Rick?" she asked, surprised.

Harry nodded.  "It hurt seeing you with him."

"Harry-"

"No, let me finish.  I…I'm sorry for pushing you away all these years because I couldn't get over it, over us.  But this week, well, this week has been crazy, and I've had a few things pummeled into my head.  I'm not saying I can change overnight, but I promise you I'll be better, and maybe someday, I hope we can be friends again."  Harry let a deep breath, relieved that he had gotten it all out.  After a long silence, he began to fidget slightly, and wondered why she wasn't saying anything.  If it weren't for the fact that he could see her shoes under the table, he would have sworn that she had left.  Hesitantly, Harry looked up.

"Harry Potter, you are a bloody, daft git of a prat!" she said furiously.  "All these years you've been ignoring me, avoiding me, and now you think a few pretty words will make everything all right?"

"I-"

"No! Just forget it Potter!  Sorry just isn't good enough!" she cried, standing up and angrily walking back inside the restaurant.  

Harry sprang from his chair and went after her, grabbing her by the arm.  "Wait Hermione, please-" he began, but stopped when she turned to face him.  

"Get your hands off me!" she yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Please Hermione," Harry said desperately, his mind unable to think of anything to say that would fix what he had done over the past four years.  Hermione tried to free herself from his grasp, but Harry's grip was firm.  She began hitting in the chest, _hard_, and Harry did the only thing he could think of – he pulled her into a tight embrace even as she struggled against him.  After a moment, she stopped fighting against him and simply cried in his arms, while Harry repeated, "I'm sorry" over and over again.  Harry felt a stinging in his eyes, and with great surprise realized he, too, was crying; Harry hadn't cried since she left him four years ago.  All the pain, bitterness, and anger that Harry had suppressed over the years seemed to break out all at once, overwhelming his senses.  As Harry cried, Hermione seemed to respond by crying even more herself, which only served to make Harry cry harder, creating a cycle of tears.  He wasn't sure how long they sat there crying in each other's arms (and he couldn't remember how they ended up on the ground), but finally the two had no more tears to shed.

Finally they broke apart, though still sitting on the ground facing each other, and wiped at their eyes.  "Don't think this means I forgive you Harry," Hermione sniffed.

Harry shook his head.  "I don't.  I know I have a lot to make up for."  Hermione nodded, and an awkward silence descended on the two.  "Look at the two of us," Harry finally said, "sitting here on the ground crying like a bunch of teenagers."

Hermione chuckled.  "Better hope no one from the Daily Prophet is around.  I can just see the headlines: 'Boy Who Lived has Nervous Breakdown in Hogsmeade!'"

Harry joined in her quiet laughter.  After their laughter subsided, he looked at her.  "Listen, I know thing's aren't fine with us, but at least…I mean, are we…"

"Maybe," she said.  "Maybe someday, we'll be fine.  Now come on, everyone's probably wondering where we ran off, probably think we killed each other or something."

Harry smiled at her, relieved that she was willing to give him another chance.  He stood and offered her his hand, which she used to pick herself up off the ground.  Harry rubbed his eyes.  "God, look at us, we're a mess!  We can't go back in there looking like this."

Hermione just gave him a smile, as one does to a small child.  "Oh Harry," she said in that familiar tone of hers.  She pulled out her wand and cast a spell.  Though she used an incantation he had never heard of, there was no mistaking the effects of the spell – instantly their tears dried and disappeared, and their eyes lost the red and puffy appearance.

Harry put his hands to face, amazed at the sudden change.  "How…what was that spell you used?"

Hermione laughed and gave him a smile.  "I wouldn't expect you to know it because you're a boy.  It's sort of a facial cleansing spell commonly used to remove make-up, but it has other handy uses as well."

"Yes, it certainly does," Harry agreed as they re-entered the restaurant.  Most of the wizards and witches were already seated at the many tables, and Harry spotted Rick's burly figure waving them over to his table, where the Gryffindors sat.  As they approached the table, Harry changed his initial assessment: Rick was waving Hermione over, not Harry.  There was only a single seat open at the table.

Hermione must have noticed at the same time, for she stopped suddenly and looked at Harry.  "Oh…Harry…" she began awkwardly.  Ron had apparently realized what was going on as well, for he was starting to rise from his seat.  Harry moved to quickly diffuse the situation.

"Don't worry about it guys, I'll find a seat somewhere else.  I mean, who wouldn't want to sit with the Boy-Who-Lived?" he said jokingly.

"You sure?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.  Hermione looked at him uncertainly, but he waved her into her seat by Rick.  Harry exchanged some meaningless small talk with the twins before turning to find another table.

Harry weaved in and out of the tables, smiling and acknowledging the various wizards and witches who greeted him.  Although he would still prefer to be a normal wizard, Harry's fame at least ensured that he would never be lonely in any social gathering, as a number of people called out invitations to join their tables.  Harry just passed a Hufflepuff table, where he spent a few minutes talking with Susan, Ernie, and Justin Finch-Fletchley (who was now a lawyer), when his stomach gave a sudden, small flip.

She was sitting amongst a mixed table of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors.  Cho Chang, with an empty seat next to her.  Even after all this time, she still affected him, even if only in a very small way.  There was just something about a first crush; probably it reminded Harry of a more innocent time, before Cedric's death, before he knew about the prophecy.  At that moment she turned from her conversation with the person next to her and spotted Harry, giving him a broad smile.  Harry found himself smiling back as he approached her table.

"Hi Harry," she said brightly.

"Hi Cho," Harry said cheerfully, and then greeted the others who sat at the table.  "Is this seat taken?" he asked.

Cho shook her head.  "Please, join us."

Harry sat down and was immediately the center of attention, as usual.  It wasn't too bad though, and Harry was able to entertain the table for a few minutes until people turned to their normal conversations.  Harry spent the rest of meal holding a rather enjoyable conversation with Cho, very different than their previous ones.  Before, Harry had been too nervous to talk properly, and then Cho had become to emotional to hold up a conversation.  But now, they were both adults with their own lives, and they spent a lot of time catching up.  Cho co-owned a little beauty shop in Harrogate, a city in northern England, catering to both Muggles and magicals.  Surprisingly, she co-owned the shop with Hannah Abbott of all people; Harry didn't even know that the two knew each other.  Throughout their conversation, Harry found himself occasionally glancing over at Hermione.  A few times, she caught him, and they shared a small smile, but usually he would look at her for a second before turning away, as if just to make sure she was still there.  As dessert was being passed (a cheesecake liberally topped with strawberry sauce), Harry felt his mobile buzzing at his hip.

Harry excused himself from conversation and opened up the mobile.  As he did so, he spotted Hermione miming the act of looking into a compact and putting on make-up, obviously mocking his clamshell-shaped device.  She looked at him and winked, and Harry chuckled.  Looking at his mobile, he noticed there were no flames, which meant whoever was on the other side wanted voice-only.  Harry put the mobile to his ear like a Muggle phone.  "Potter," he said in his official voice.

"It's Robert."

"What happened?" Harry said immediately.  He knew that this was no social call, seeing as how they saw more than enough of each other during the day.

"Tway's dead."

"Shit!" Harry said quietly.  He noticed Cho glance at him in surprise, and he quickly adopted a carefree attitude to avoid any questions.  "What happened?" he asked Robert in a light tone, a smile plastered on his face.

Robert chuckled over the mobile.  "Not alone, are we?  Anyways, the initial report looks like a car accident.  Price and Clarke are at the scene now investigating.  I can't believe this is a coincidence, a fatal accident just days after we bring him in."

"I agree."  Harry, still in a pleasant tone of voice, got the location of Tway's accident from Robert and snapped shut his mobile.  He looked apologetically at Cho.  "I'm sorry, that was work; they need me somewhere now.  Some piece of paperwork that needs my signature," he said, rolling his eyes and trying to look as if it were all one big inconvenience.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry.  Will I see you tomorrow?" Cho asked as Harry stood up.

Harry shrugged.  "Depends on what happens tonight.  I hope so though."

"Me too," Cho said as she stood and gave Harry a hug.  Harry said his good-byes to the rest of the table, then made his way to where Ron sat and kneeled down beside him.

"Hey Ron."

Ron leaned back in his chair and turned his head to face Harry.  "What's up?"

"Sorry mate, I gotta go.  Work calls, literally," Harry said as he held up his mobile.  Ron gave him a suspicious look.  "No, seriously Ron.  I just got a call and I'm needed."

Ron looked disappointed.  "All right.  Are you going to make it tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure.  Depends on what I find out tonight, but I'll floo you as soon as I know anything."

Ron nodded, and Harry said goodbye to the other Gryffindors.  Hermione gave him a small wave, and Harry made his way through the tables to the robe check counter.  After giving the witch his token, Harry leaned on the counter to wait.

"Is everything okay, Harry?"

Harry straightened and turned around.  "Hermione!  What…yeah, everything's fine.  Just routine work things, but they need to see me right away."

"Uh-huh," Hermione said disbelievingly.  Then, to Harry's surprise, she gave him a smirk. "It's good to know that even after all these years, you still can't hide anything from me.  I saw your face when you were on the phone; whatever you heard wasn't '_routine._'" 

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it.  She was right, after all.  "It's…well, I'm not sure _what _it is.  It's probably bad, but I won't know for sure until I get out there."

Hermione nodded.  "Do you…I mean…I worry about you Harry."

Harry smiled and rubbed her shoulder.  "I'll be fine…most of the criminals out there are too scared of me to cast a spell properly."

Hermione shook her head.  "It's not that…well, not _primarily _that.  Do you…do you have anyone to talk to?"

Harry grew concerned.  "Talk to?  What do you mean?"

"Well, when we were…together…you could always come home and talk about your problems, about the things you go through at work, all the evil you see day in and day out.  You're normally so private with your emotions, I'm afraid that you're keeping everything in now."

"I'm fine.  Robert – do you remember him, my partner? – he keeps me sane."

"But do you tell him everything, your innermost feelings?  You shouldn't keep-"

"I said I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said firmly.  "Please, leave it at that."

Hermione sighed.  "All right Harry.  But if you need to talk to someone, even tonight, floo me, okay?  No matter what the time."

"Okay Hermione," Harry said in a slightly exasperated voice as he turned away and retrieved his robe from the witch, leaving her a nice tip.

"Seriously Harry.  Promise me you'll call me if it's bad."

Harry shrugged into his robe before turning back to Hermione, and he saw genuine concern in her eyes.  It was something that he missed, more then he realized now that it was back.  He gently took her hands.  "I promise, Hermione," he said softly.  "Now, I have to get going.  I'll see you later, okay?"

Hermione nodded.  "I'll see you later."

Harry gave her one last smile and then closed his eyes and concentrated.  When he opened them again, the restaurant was replaced by a street corner in a suburb of London.

**A/N: **Apologies for disappearing into the night.  Everyone have a good Holiday and New Years!

**Risty:** I think Rick means well; I mean, I'd probably act the same way.  He's a nice guy, really, but he's just not the _one_ for Hermione.

**Facade1:** blinks rapidly did you just say Harry/Susan doesn't sound bad?  chooses to ignore that bit  I am happy you _finally_ got some chappies up; they were great!  More more!

**Sethro72:** I forgot about the perfume, so you have a point, but then again Hermione wasn't at all thrilled with the gift (calling it "unusual"), so it seems to support the fact that Hermione isn't enamored with Ron.

**HeeroTomoe: **Yeah, I got a little bored with writing angsty!Harry.  He's turned a corner in this chapter, and things will start to look up for our hero.

**Akuma-sama: **Envisions a jello scene with Susan and Hermione

**kraeg001:** Whoa, relax there.  I think you're getting a bit confused there.  The comments you quoted were from me to you, so I'm the one who's married.  Did you even read my original edit?

**Parselmouth Majere:** I think overall Harry is okay with his job, but he's unhappy with his personal life.  Plus, even though he likes his job, he's a bit annoyed with it because he feels like he had no choice in the matter.  Kinda like when your mom makes you go to camp because she says you'll like it, and you go and you _do_ like it, but you sorta resent it anyways just because you're mom made you go.  Hope that made sense, and no, it's not a real life example; I never went to camp :)

**Calen:** The love of Harry and Hermione should be self-evident!  But seriously, I think in response to you I'll throw in a few flashback scenes while Harry wanders Hogwarts – always a good time for memories.


	14. Back to the Beginning

**12/24/03:  **Happy Christmas Eve! (for those who observe it).  Here's my present to you - a quick update, but with a warning - I cheated!  I have this huge flashback near the end that I copied over from a challenge I wrote at Portkey.  Since I never posted it on my collection of one-shots, I added it here.  The flashback itself is as long as a normal chapter, so really it's two chapters for the price of one.  I apologize to anyone who has read the original version (like Facade1).

**14. Back to the Beginning******

The accident site was easy to identify from all the flashing lights of the Muggle police cars.  As Harry approached, he also saw that the Aurors were also in full force.  Harry approached the edge of the screening charm that would hide magical activity when a large wizard in Muggle clothing stopped him.

"Excuse me, sir.  Can I help you?" the large wizard asked politely but firmly, not really looking at Harry.  His purpose was to prevent any Muggles and curious magicals from accidentally stumbling upon the Aurors.  Harry pointed at the scar on his forehead, and the wizard's eyes widened with recognition.  "Er, sorry Detective, I didn't recognize you.  The others are by the car; you can't miss them."

"Thanks," Harry said and entered the accident scene.  The 'bouncer' was right – Harry immediately spotted Robert and the others huddled near the wreckage of a car.  Nick Clarke noticed him as he walked up.

"Hey Potter."

"Nick, Darren, Robert," Harry said, nodding at each of the detectives in turn.  "What'd I miss?"

Robert waved in the general direction of the crash.  "Looks like Tway got himself into a car accident.  Forensics is going over it now to see if there's anything more."

Harry nodded and turned his attention to the mangled remains of Tway's vehicle.  While magical cars were, despite appearances, much safer than their Muggle counterparts, accidents still happened, so it _was_ possible that this wasn't part of some dastardly plot.  After about ten minutes of standing around with nothing to do, the forensics lead walked up to their huddle.

"Ah, David, good to see you again," Robert said amicably as he offered his hand.  David Harrington, the same forensics investigator from Magical Solutions, greeted the detectives.  "What news?"

"Fortunately this time I can give you more information then last time.  This was definitely _not_ a simple car accident.  There's a faint, but unmistakable, apparition signature in the passenger seat, indicating Tway had a passenger.  A test of the metal shows it was deformed about an hour ago, and the apparition trace occurred right around that time as well.  Although it is possible that someone apparated into the passenger seat just after the accident, it would be a very uncomfortable place to be, and it begs the question of why that person didn't stick around.  It's more likely that someone apparated out of the car just prior to the collision."

"What about Tway?  Cause of death?"

Harrington shrugged.  "It was a very hard collision.  Tway's body suffered a high number and great variety of injuries from the crash; there's no way to tell if any of them are out of the ordinary."

"All right, thanks David."

"My pleasure detectives.  We'll be working on the crash for a bit longer; hopefully we can trace the apparition signature," Harrington said before returning to his team.  Harry looked to Robert for instructions.

"All right, let's see what we can find.  I know the Muggles have already questioned the eyewitnesses, but perhaps a little magical assistance will help jog a few memories.  Get to it."

Harry and the others fanned out, mingling with the Muggle police.  Working alongside the Muggle police at the same place was always a tricky affair, but the clean-up crew had already cast their masking and memory charms, so it was more the inconvenience of a crowded accident site then anything else.  Harry sidestepped a wizard who was cataloguing the scene for Imagery and approached a group of witnesses.  After listening to various people talk for fifteen minutes and asking a few questions of his own, Harry found nothing of value.  No one had seen anything out of the ordinary beyond a car speeding to its doom.  Harry also walked by the car itself and examined the remains of the vehicle.  Not finding anything there either, Harry returned to where the other detectives were standing.

"Anything?"  Negative replies answered Robert's questions.  "All right, Potter and I are going home then, call us if you find anything useful.  Clarke and Price, figure it out.  See if you can follow the apparition signature," Robert said in a stern voice before stalking off.  Bewildered both at the tone of his partner and the fact that neither Clarke nor Price protested, Harry followed to catch up with his partner.

"What was that all about?  And why aren't we helping in the investigation?"

Robert stopped and turned, irritation now visible on his face.  "Clarke and Price are going to spend the rest of their Friday night here because they were _supposed_ to keep Tway safe," Robert said, then slapped a fist into his palm in anger.  "Damnit!  What were those two doing?  Sleeping on the job?"

"But-"

"Listen Harry, there'll be plenty for us to do later; I doubt those two will be able to solve this in one weekend.  We've worked hard enough.  I'm going home to my wife and kids, get a good night's sleep, perhaps do some housework tomorrow, and take the kids to the park on Sunday."

"But-"

"Harry!  Stop trying to be super-detective!  Clarke and Price, despite my earlier outburst, are perfectly capable detectives.  They can handle this for now.  Go home.  What I said back at the office still stand: I'll see you Monday."  And with that, Robert turned and climbed into his car and zoomed off.  Harry looked around the accident scene for a moment, debating whether or not to stay and help.  But the idea of spending his Friday night here wasn't tempting at all (it would be two Friday nights in a row spent at a crime scene), so Harry apparated home.

*********************************

Saturday morning brought a lot of sun and only a few clouds, Harry was of two minds about his plans for the day.  On the one hand, he wasn't excited about the memorial; large crowds and painful memories were not his idea of a good time.  But on the other hand, it would be nice to see Hogwarts again, and it was likely Hermione would be there…

Harry showered and shaved, and dressed in his best robes.  He had already floo'ed Ron and told him that they would meet there - Harry wanted to go a bit early and wander the old castle, reminisce in private.  With a faint pop, Harry apparated into Hogsmeade near the train station.  It was morning, and there were no carriages waiting to take the guests up to the castle.  Harry slowly walked up the long path to the castle, thinking of nothing in particular and simple basking in the memories of taking this very path many times all those years ago.  As the castle proper came into view, Harry fondly remembered the first time he saw Hogwarts in its full glory, from the lake as a first year.  Harry smiled as he recalled a gangly red head with dirt on his nose and a certain bossy know-it-all.

Harry was puzzled to see a group of small children run out the castle doors and towards the lake.  Two older children, probably fifteen or sixteen, followed the younger ones as they skipped happily across the grounds.  Harry entered the castle through the now-open doors, and set foot into Hogwarts for the first time in years.  Harry decided that Hogwarts hadn't changed much, if at all, since the last time he stood in its halls.  Without any plan in mind, Harry simply wandered the halls, taking time to peek in the library and the Great Hall before walking slowly to Gryffindor tower.  To his surprise, the fat lady wasn't guarding the entrance to the common room; instead, a portrait of a large man with a boarhound stood in the way.  Harry watched the man play with his dog for a few seconds until he was noticed.

"May I help you," the portrait asked.  "A bit too old to be around here, aren't you?"

"Er, I'm just visiting.  Don't suppose you'd let me in?"

"Password?"  Harry shook his head and held his hands up helplessly.  "Sorry then, rules are rules."

"I understand," Harry said, disappointed.  He had hoped to sweet-talk his way past the fat lady and wasn't counting on a different portrait to guard Gryffindor tower.   Just as Harry was about to turn away, a young voice called out.  

"Can I help you?"

Harry turned and saw a young witch, about fifteen years old with dirty blonde hair, looking at him curiously.  Although Harry was a stranger, the witch wasn't apprehensive or fearful, believing that nothing threatening could simply stroll into Hogwarts (though, if pressed, Harry was sure he could name a few from personal experience).

"Er, I'm fine, thanks.  I'm here for the memorial this afternoon.  I was just taking a look around."

The young witch nodded her understanding as she approached, and then, predictably, her eyes were drawn to the scar on his forehead and her face registered her recognition.  "E-excuse me, but are you…"

Harry gave her a bright smile - he could handle his fame in small doses.  He offered his hand to the girl.  "I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

The girl, obviously star-struck, weakly took his hand.  "I-I'm Cassandra…Cassie Wallace, one of the counselors."

"Counselors?"

Cassie nodded and then noticed his confusion.  "Yes, I help look after the kids during the summer," she said helpfully.

"Kids during the summer?" Harry repeated, aware of how foolish he sounded.

Cassie nodded again, but before she could further explain her name was called out.  Harry looked behind her and saw a familiar figure approaching them.

"Miss Wallace, I've been looking for you – oh!  Is that Harry Potter I see?"

Harry gave his old Head of House a genuine smile.  "Professor McGonagall!" he said happily.  Although never one to be called warm and fuzzy, Minerva McGonagall held a special place in Harry's heart.  While Molly Weasley, at least for a while, played the 'mother' role, Professor McGonagall had always played the strict grandmother.  With all the people who either loved him, coddled him, hated him, or wanted to kill him, Professor McGonagall was a constant in his life – strict, but fair, and always looking out for his best interests. 

"Please Harry," she said with a smile, "after all these years, surely you can call me Minerva?"

Harry grinned.  "I'm sorry Professor McGonagall.  No matter what happens, you'll always be Professor McGonagall to me."  Noticing a flicker of disappointment cross over her face, Harry quickly added, "it's a good thing, really!  It's like saying…grandmother," Harry added softly.

For a brief moment, McGonagall's stern face softened, and her eyes moistened.  But then it was gone, as quickly as it came.  "It really is good to see you again Harry."

*********************************

Harry had a light lunch with McGonagall and Cassie Wallace in the Gryffindor common room.  He learned that only a few years ago, someone had the bright idea of creating a summer camp at Hogwarts for kids under eleven.  It was limited to children whose magical abilities were beyond doubt, for it would be cruel to invite a child to Hogwarts summer camp, but turn around and not accept them for regular schooling.  It was also hoped that summer camp would ease the differences between the houses, as many of the first years will have known each other through camp, and hopefully those friendships would remain despite house placements.  Lunch was enjoyable and relaxed, but soon enough McGonagall and Cassie had to return to their duties, especially given the memorial that afternoon.  Harry bid them farewell and resumed his stroll down memory lane.

After spending an hour indoors, Harry made his way outside and walked the familiar path towards the Forbidden Forest.  He spotted the Wall in the distance, and his feet carried him towards it.  As he neared the Wall, he saw that there were a good number of flowers arrayed before it.  An elderly couple stood before one section of the Wall, holding each other.  Not wishing to intrude, Harry stood at the far end, and he remembered.

**_FLASHBACK – SEVENTH YEAR_**

In the early morning, Harry Potter walked slowly across the school grounds towards the lake. It was a walk he had taken every morning for the past two months, regardless of the weather. Harry slowly approached the spot where the names were - the names of those lost.

It was only four months ago that Harry Potter finally put an end to the terror of Lord Voldemort. Following a complicated and intricate plan worthy only of Albus Dumbledore, the two were placed in a situation where they could face each other alone, as fated by destiny.  After a build-up of seven years, Harry finally put an end, a real end, to Voldemort's reign of terror.

The celebrations around the world were great and extravagant; the entire wizarding world celebrated a new era of peace, and Harry Potter found himself once again the savior of the wizarding world.  But all was not right in Harry's world, and he didn't feel like a hero. In fact, he felt quiet the opposite. If not for Harry, Voldemort would not have risen in the first place. If he hadn't let Wormtail go free...if he hadn't taken the Tri-wizard Cup or somehow prevented Voldemort from taking his blood…if he'd only trained harder, he could have ended it sooner. But he didn't, and every lost soul was, in the final tally, his fault.

It was on one of his private walks while recuperating from his injuries that he saw it. By the lake, in a spot Harry had never really paid attention to, lay a small silver cross and a plaque. 'For Cedric Diggory' the plaque read. For hours Harry sat by the tiny memorial. At first, he had been surprised that he never noticed it before, but after that, the guilt over Cedric's death and the fact that he never truly honored the Hufflepuff ate away at him. As the last rays of sunlight faded over the lake, Harry decided to truly remember Cedric and all those who gave their lives in the fight against Voldemort.

Harry had remembered something Hermione had mentioned from her Muggle Studies class. Somewhere in the United States lay a memorial, a simple wall with the names of those who fell in a war engraved on it. Or maybe it was more than one war, or maybe there was more than one wall - Harry didn't remember; he was honestly surprised he remembered any of it at all. So, upon his release from the hospital ward, Harry donated a portion of his family's fortune to the creation of the memorial that now stood before him. Upon hearing what he was planning, many wizards and witches offered to provide financial support, but Harry refused them all. He was afraid that they would try and make it into something that honored the donors, and not the dead, or to make it bigger than he wanted. This was a memorial to those who died during Voldemort's second reign, and with Harry's clout, he was able to do as he pleased.

As was his custom every morning, Harry traced his finger over the first name: Cedric Diggory, the first to fall to a reborn Voldemort. His eyes traveled along the wall, reading each and every name on it, regardless of whether or not he actually knew the witch or wizard named. As always, he stopped at the name Sirius Black. He did not linger though, for Sirius' death was two years in the past, and so many had died since. Other names caught his attention, names of fellow classmates lost to death eaters. 

But something was different this morning, something that had never happened before. A swishing sound captured his attention - the sound of a cloak or a robe, accompanied by the soft sounds of footsteps on grass. Harry found himself irritated that someone would interrupt his private grief, until, without having to look, he knew who it must be. "Hullo Hermione," he said.

"Harry," she said quietly. Harry turned around and saw, as expected, Hermione Granger standing just a few feet away, clutching her robes tightly around here. "Why?" she asked simply.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why do you do this, Harry? Every morning I watch you walk out here, every morning you stand before the Wall. Why do you do it?"

Harry turned back towards the wall, away from Hermione, and shrugged. "To remember."

Harry felt her move closer until she was standing right beside him. "Why?" she said again.

Harry felt himself growing impatient. "I told you why."

"No, you didn't. Everyone remembers, Harry. The mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and sons and daughters of the people who died remember what was lost. But they don't come here, every morning. Only you do. So, why Harry? Why?"

Harry stood silently for a minute. Had it been any other person who asked him that question, Harry would have snapped at them in anger. This was his personal pain, not to be shared. But he learned last year that there could be nothing to be gained at yelling at Hermione. Unlike most people, Hermione would never back down before his wrath, not when she believed in what she was doing. So instead of yelling in anger, Harry considered her words. "I…I don't know," he finally said. "I don't know why I come here, only that I must."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione turn and look at him. Harry tried to avoid her eyes, but he felt an undeniable force compel him to face her. "It isn't always about you, Harry," she said, meeting his eyes. (**A/N:** the sentence said by Hermione is a tribute to one of my favorite stories, _Epiphanies_ by romulus lupin over on Portkey.  He also writes a mighty fine essay on H/Hr.)

Harry only looked at her in confusion. "What?"

Hermione took a step closer, and Harry resisted the impulse to back away. "It isn't always about you Harry. These deaths, all these people…it wasn't about you, about the Boy-Who-Lived. Voldemort didn't kill all these people because of you."

Harry found he couldn't break away from her eyes. "But the prophecy, it _is_ my fau-"

"No it isn't!" she said, almost angrily. "It's not your fault that Voldemort was a crazy, deranged psychopathic killer. It's not your fault Trelawny made some stupid prophecy about you. It's not your fault that your parents or Sirius died. Do you hear me Harry? These things happened to you; you didn't cause them to be."

Harry felt a tear sting the corner of his eye, and he finally looked away. "It's just so…hard, Hermione. I can't help feeling that if only-"

Harry felt Hermione move closer, put her arms around his waist and rest her head against his chest. "I hate that word. If.  We can spend all day playing 'what if?' but the fact remains is that Voldemort is dead. It's time to move on with our lives."

Harry put his arms around his best friend. "If only it were that easy to move on."

**_PRESENT DAY_**

Those words seemed to reverberate in his mind.  If only it were that easy to move on.  Harry turned away from the Wall and found himself walking towards the Quidditch stadium.  He hadn't thought about Quidditch in a long time, not after what had happened.  On one of Harry's first cases, while tracking down the few remaining Death Eaters, Harry had been struck in the leg by a powerful curse.  After months of rehabilitation and extensive spell-work, Harry could walk normally, but his healed leg wouldn't hold up to the stresses and pressure of flying a racing broom.  Quidditch was out of the question.  Harry could ride a gently, normal broom, but doing so was a mockery of his previous abilities.  One of his few joys – being able to soar through the air without care – had been taken from him.  But Quidditch hadn't always brought forth painful memories of what was lost.  In fact, it was Quidditch finally helped bring Harry closure.

**_FLASHBACK – SEVENTH YEAR_**

Today's Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, was the last of the season, Harry's last match at Hogwarts.  Both teams were undefeated heading into the final match, and the winner would earn the Quidditch Cup.  As Harry dressed in robes of scarlet and met the rest of the team in the locker rooms, he tried to put the feelings of guilt from his mind and concentrate on the match at hand.

Despite his expectations, Harry's defeat of Voldemort didn't free his mind from troubles; in fact, it had the opposite effect. Before, Harry was able to put aside the feelings of guilt by focusing on his mission of defeating Voldemort. But now that Voldemort was gone, Harry had nothing to stop the guilt from overwhelming him, invading his thoughts even while in the sanctuary of Quidditch. In Gryffindor's previous game, Harry had failed to catch the Snitch; he simply wasn't able to concentrate on the match. Fortunately, the Gryffindor chasers were up to the challenge and easily outscored the Hufflepuff chasers, making the 150 points of the Snitch irrelevant. But today's match against Ravenclaw would be different. Whoever caught the Snitch would likely determine the winner of the Quidditch Cup. Harry knew he had to focus, but at the same time, he knew he could not. 

Madam Hooch released first the Bludgers and then the Snitch, and with a blow of her whistle, the Quaffle was put into play. Harry flew high above the stadium in a standard Seeker pattern, following his rival. He grimaced slightly; normally it was he who was shadowed, but today, with his concentration elsewhere, Harry knew it would be unlikely that he would spot the Snitch first. Instead, he was counting on the Ravenclaw to see the little golden ball for him, and then rely on his superior broom and flying skills to catch it first.

Without really thinking, Harry followed the Ravenclaw Seeker around the stadium, near the student bleachers. He vaguely heard cheers and encouragements reaching out towards him, as well as a few boos from the Slytherins. All of a sudden, a sound penetrated his morbid thoughts. Somehow, through the deafening roar of the crowd, Harry thought he heard Hermione's voice calling out to him. He was sure he was imagining it, since it would be near impossible to pick out one voice among the hundreds. Harry looked up towards the stands and was amazed that he instantly picked out Hermione in the bleachers, standing in front of Lavender and Pavarti; perhaps it was the constant flashes from Colin's camera that caught his attention. Harry didn't directly approach her, but fortunately the Ravenclaw's route passed by the Gryffindor seats. Hermione wasn't cheering - she was trying to say something to him. But though Harry couldn't make out the words, he could understand what she was saying as clearly as if only the two of them were there.

"It isn't always about you, Harry," she mouthed.

Harry stopped in mid-air as her words seemed to sweep over him. She had said that same thing earlier today. Was she right? Although Harry knew intellectually that she was, his heart still couldn't accept it. But somehow, when she said it-

Whack!

Harry instinctively ducked at the sound as he saw a Bludger went flying away from him. He looked around in surprise.

"Watch it there Harry! Keep your head in the game or a Bludger might knock it off," Jack Sloper teased before flying away. But Jack's eyes belied his light tone. He was worried. They were all worried about Harry Potter.  Harry saw that the Ravenclaw Seeker had pulled away, and he quickly caught up with him before settling into a figure-8 pattern. The adrenaline caused by the near miss fading away, Harry was left alone again with his thoughts.

It was strange that the entire school (except for some Slytherins) would cheer for Harry now. He remembered, only five years ago when the entire school thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. He had been absolutely miserable; even Hufflepuffs were afraid of him. How quickly people turned on him. But then he remembered Hermione and Ron standing by him, and it made him smile a little.

But the smile disappeared as he remembered that they weren't always by him. Ron had so quickly and easily dismissed him during fourth year. Harry remembered the feeling of being shunned again. He remembered the anger and frustration he felt as he stormed out of the common room – only to run into Hermione, holding a stack of toast in a napkin with an offer to walk around the lake. She somehow knew exactly what he needed right then. 

But fourth year had its other horrors. Cedric's cold, lifeless eyes staring up at him, without even time to cry out in surprise before he was struck down. But then, Cedric's pale face disappeared, and Hermione's warm one filled his mind's eye as she kissed him for the first time on the platform. Harry mentally shook his head and tried to focus on his flying.

But the horrid, toad-like face of Delores Umbridge next invaded his head, and Harry unconsciously looked at his hand where the words "I will not tell lies" had been cut over and over again.  Just like before, the entire school had thought he was nutters, and Umbridge made his life miserable. It was only Hermione's idea of the DA club and the Quibbler article that kept him going that year.

Harry remembered the last moments of Sirius, his godfather. He had a happy, almost triumphant look on his face as he taunted Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry imagined that's how he looked in happier days, before Azkaban. But then, a spell from Lestrange struck him in the chest, and he went flying towards the veil, Harry helpless to stop it. It was possibly the worst period of his life, and Harry did not want to imagine what he might have done that summer if not for Hermione's letters.

Harry wavered slightly as he flew.  It was Hermione's letters that sustained him through that horrible summer.  She didn't press him for details, didn't badger him to talk about his feelings.  Her letters contained the perfect mix of sympathy, concern, the mundane, and news from the Order.  It was always that way, wasn't it? Whenever something bad happened to Harry, Hermione always knew the perfect way to cheer him up, or at least to keep him from brooding too much. Perhaps that's why, after thinking he had been possessed by Voldemort to attack Mr. Weasley, Harry came out of Buckbeak's room so easily at Hermione's request when he so actively avoided everyone else. He trusted her and somehow knew she would make things better.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts when he noticed that the Ravenclaw seeker had again pulled away. Harry lowered the nose of his broom and swiftly caught up. Harry thought back to sixth year, when he finally told his two best friends about the prophecy. Harry had always known he was a marked man, but the knowledge of prophecy was a heavy burden, one that threatened to crush him. Ron reacted as Harry had expected – initially shocked, then supportive, even trying to make a few jokes along the way. But Hermione…Hermione's reaction surprised him. He expected her to be angry with him, for either keeping the secret so long or for believing in foolish prophecies, or perhaps she would rush off to the library to look for something to help. But she did none of those things. Instead, she simply walked right up to him and hugged him, tears silently falling from her eyes. Once again, she somehow knew exactly what he needed. Not a lecture, not a plan of action; just a simple hug to know that he was still loved and accepted.

Harry fast-forwarded to the end of the year, when Stephen Cornfoot, a Ravenclaw in his year, had died in the temple. Stephen had stayed behind so that the others could flee the crumbling building, and his crushed body was found days later. Feeling the weight of his friend's death, Harry had fled to most private place he knew of – the chamber that once held the Philosopher's Stone. He should have known better, for only an hour later Hermione appeared. They looked at each other for a moment before Hermione moved forward and sat beside him, cradling his head on her lap. He didn't know how long they sat there together, and they didn't speak a word, but somehow he felt better upon leaving the place. Harry realized that Hermione had always been there for him after each horrible event in his life to pull him back from the brink of despair. Harry mused that perhaps that was why he hasn't emerged from his current depression; he hadn't gone to Hermione since the memorial was built. Harry knew at that moment that, though the demons may never leave him, he could face them as long as Hermione was there.

Then, as if fate were simply waiting for him to come to that conclusion, Harry noticed a flash of gold below him. The Snitch! Harry flicked his eyes towards the scoreboard. Gryffindor was losing by 80 points, so he was free to go after the Snitch. Harry instantly went into a dive, quickly gaining on the little ball. The Ravenclaw seeker had excellent reactions and immediately followed, but Harry's superior broom and flying skills only increased his lead. Harry was moments away from ending the game when the Snitch suddenly switch directions and flew up towards the sky. Harry changed directions and followed, but flying up was measurably slower than flying down, as he was fighting both gravity and his own weight. But Harry was determined, and he slowly closed the gap. Then the Snitch made its mistake: it veered off to the side. Harry adjusted his angle of attack and intercepted the little ball, grasping it in his hand. He had caught the Snitch! Harry heard a thunderous roar from the crowd, and he looked down, surprised to see how far above the stadium he was. Harry grinned happily, looking in delight at the golden ball that still struggled in his fist. Harry flew a slow spiral back down towards the stadium, wishing to enjoy his moment of privacy up high in the sky. The good feelings were back: the exhilaration, the freedom, and the pure joy. Harry knew the guilt was still there, but it no longer dominated his thoughts.

As Harry circled downwards, he looked over the stands at the cheering crowd. He saw many shouting up at him, but he couldn't make out anything specific. As his eyes wandered the stadium, he somehow picked her out from the crowd. Hermione. He would know her form, that hair, anywhere. Harry felt his heart swell, and not only from catching the Snitch. Harry felt an overpowering need to see Hermione, to share his happiness with her. He pointed his broom in her direction and flew to her. He saw her happy face as she waved and cheered. When she realized he was flying at her, she leaned as far over the edge of the bleacher as safety would allow.

"Hermione!" he yelled as loudly as he could when he was close to the stands. Hermione smiled but shook her head, indicating that she couldn't hear him. "Hermione!" he yelled again, but she still couldn't hear him. She was saying something to him now, and Harry couldn't make out her words. She shrugged then just smiled at him, and he saw her mouth the word, "Later."

But later wasn't soon enough for Harry. He was caught up in the moment, happy and buoyant. Harry inched his broom closer, and Hermione leaned down, a curious smile on her face. They were only a foot away from each other when Harry suddenly found he didn't know what to say. What could he say that would express how grateful he was for her, to show her how important she was to him and how much he needed her? Harry looked into her eyes and reacted without thinking. He moved his broom even closer and leaned up. Just as he had caught the snitch in his hand, Harry captured Hermione lips with his own. He felt her surprise, a surprise that matched his own. But it felt so right to Harry, as if he was meant to do this. For a moment, Harry was suddenly filled with fear, a fear worse then when he faced off against Voldemort. What if she was disgusted by the kiss? What if she rejected him and left him? How would he go on without her? But all the fears evaporated when he felt her mouth respond. Harry spent a few blissful moments kissing her before they broke apart. They rested their foreheads against each other, their noses touching.

"I think I love you," Harry said, looking into her eyes.

He saw tears slowly forming. "I think I love you too," she replied.

**_PRESENT DAY_**

As Harry stood in the center of the pitch, he unconsciously touched his lips as he remembered that day, many years ago.  Harry had turned a corner, emotionally, that day.  Although some of the guilt would always be with him, it would no longer overwhelm him, not since that kiss.  Harry looked towards the entrance to the stadium, and in his mind's eye he could picture Hermione happily running towards him right after the match.  Then, just like a Muggle movie, the real Hermione replaced the image of a seventeen year-old Hermione.  Harry shook his head slightly and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things.  "What are you doing here?" he asked with a smile as she approached him.

Hermione grinned.  "I had an appointment with Minerva about the curriculum for the summer camp.  When she said you were here too, I figured you'd be out here."

Harry raised an eyebrow.  "Really?"

Hermione shrugged.  "Well, either here or at the Wall."

Harry said nothing, but looked at her with a goofy smile.  Hermione waited for him to say anything, and couldn't help but smile herself at the look on Harry's face.  "What?  What is it?  Do I have something on my face?" she asked.

Harry shook his head in wonder.  "I was just at the Wall.  It's amazing how, after all these years, you still know me so well."

Hermione walked up to Harry.  "I guess some things never change."

"I guess not."

They stood there a few feet apart, not saying anything, but simply looking at each other.  Harry would have expected there to be an awkwardness between them, after being on bad terms for so long.  But for some reason, perhaps it was being back at Hogwarts, it was a comfortable silence.  Finally, Hermione cleared her throat.  "We should get going.  The service will start soon."

Harry nodded, and then gave in to an impulse - he offered her his arm.  "Shall we?"

Hermione laughed lightly then took his arm, and the two walked back towards the castle.

**A/N: **Happy Holidays!  Since I'm not going to be working much until the new year, there probably won't be any updates, so be safe everyone!  As I said before, the flashback was in response to a challenge over at Portkey by Muddgutts.  He drew a wonderful picture that portrays that kiss, and challenged people to write a story that explains it.  Since I hadn't added it to my collection of one-shots, I decided to add it here in response to Calen's comment about not being able to see them together.

**Alex20 **and **Calen**: Actually, when I first wrote the scene outside the restaurant, Harry says sorry, Hermione says sorry, and everyone's happy.  But I rewrote it because, if you think about it, Hermione didn't do anything wrong.  I rewrote chapter 5 to show that Harry really broke them up with his obsession with his job.  I mean, people get divorced in real life when the husband (or wife) spends all their time at work.  Harry's the same way, except he's really obsessed with it, feeling like it's his purpose, not just a job.  So, Hermione decides to break up with him, perhaps hoping he'll realize somethings, but the whole Percy thing messed up any chance for reconciliation, and Hermione probably underestimated Harry's ability to angst.  But even if they broke up, they could still be friends, but Harry pushed her away and rejected every attempt to be friendly.  So that's why Harry's apologizing.

**Kraeg001: **no problem, I'm just happy we cleared everything up :)

**Facade1:** Hope you didn't mind re-reading Quidditch scenes.   Anyways, BUU better be H/Hr or else…or else…well, let's just say you don't want to know ;)

**Ides of March:** Thanks for the compliments!  And I love _Subservience_!

**sethro72:** Yeah, you're right – neither one of them will just come out and say how they feel.  It's still too awkward after all the years of separation.  But I won't be making Harry a teacher just in case I want to make a sequel, sorta like the continuing adventures of Detective Potter.  Of course, I still have to write the sequel to _Decisions _next.

**Rocky235 **and **Akuma-sama:** laughs  well, I don't want to offend any female readers with an overt jello/mud wrestling scene…maybe I'll work something in somewhere though ;)

**Risty:** I think poor Cho gets the short end of the stick in fanfic.  I mean, she's nice enough and doesn't do anything malicious.  I figure after 10 years she's had time to recover and be herself.  


	15. A Lucky Break

**1/5/03:  **I hope everyone had a great New Years!  Mine was pretty laid back…the days of concerts and parties are done now that my baby's crawling around (she's nine months!).  Here's a 'turning point' chapter – hopefully things will pick up now!

There's a very important question in my author's note at the end.  Need your opinions - will have a significant impact on the rest of the story.

**15. A Lucky Break ******

Thanks to the Dursleys, Harry learned early on not to do anything to stand out in a crowd.  Although being famous in the wizarding world loosened him up a bit over the years, Harry was, by any measure, a modest man.  However, within his most private of thoughts, Harry would say that he was a damn good Auror.  While his record spoke for itself, Harry knew he had a natural talent for being an Auror, and that didn't even take into account his fame or his magical prowess.  Harry had an eye for detail and that rare ability to go from 'A' to 'C' without needing to stop off at 'B' first.  Many of his cases, Harry felt, would have been unsolvable by anyone other than him.  Even the case he was on now was sparked by his ability to 'read' magic better than anyone else.

But, Harry would grudgingly admit, luck was often just as important, if not more important, then skill.  More times then he would care to count, Harry had been stymied by a case, without a single lead to follow, when lady luck would appear and send Harry on his way again.  Perhaps it would be an eyewitness who just remembered something, a passerby who noticed something fishy, or maybe the perpetrator simply did something stupid, but the value of luck could never be discounted.  At the moment, Harry and the entire team were floundering on their case, with more questions then answers, and it only stood to reason that perhaps luck might lend a helping hand.

Arm-in-arm, Hermione and Harry walked back towards the lake in the direction of the Wall.  They chatted amiably as they walked, and Harry was in the content mood that started in the Quidditch stadium and was bolstered by Hermione's company.  Harry was a little curious about Rick (why wasn't he with Hermione?  Hopefully he didn't come), but he didn't want to ruin his good mood by talking about the blustering idiot.  As they approached the lakeside, Harry saw that it was a much different scene than before – rather then an elderly couple holding vigil at the memorial, an array of chairs and a small stage had been set-up in front of the Wall with a large number of people milling around.  Harry turned his head to look back at the Quidditch stadium, wondering with bewilderment just how long he spent on the pitch with his memories.  Hermione led Harry towards a group of Gryffindors where they started reminiscing about school days.  A few minutes later, Dumbledore arrived on the scene, indicating that the memorial service was to begin.

Harry and Hermione found seats together in the back, with Ron sitting on Hermione's other side.  Harry grimaced slightly when Dumbledore took the stage.  During Harry's first four years at Hogwarts, Dumbledore played the role of the gentle, all-knowing grandfather to McGonagall's role of strict grandmother.  It all changed in fifth year.  Although Harry still felt the lion's share of the blame for Sirius' death, he also harbored quite a bit of resentment towards Dumbledore for keeping so many things from him, including information that might have saved Sirius – if only Harry had known what was in the Department of Mysteries, if only Harry had known what Voldemort was after, then maybe…

Harry mentally shook his head of these thoughts, hoping to leave them in the past where they belonged.  But the fact remained, his relationship with Dumbledore never improved during his final two years at Hogwarts, and Harry couldn't recall having a real conversation with the old Headmaster since his graduation.  Harry was brought back to the present by the feeling of Hermione squeezing his hand.  Surprised, Harry looked over at her, and she gave him a reassuring smile, evidently still able to read Harry's body language well enough to see that Dumbledore's appearance had troubled him.  Harry returned her smile, and only then did he notice the dark circles under her eyes.  Harry briefly checked the program he was handed and saw he had a full afternoon of speeches ahead of him.   He leaned towards Hermione, who inclined her head towards him while still keeping her eyes on Dumbledore.

"Are you all right Hermione?" Harry whispered.

Hermione responded while still looking at Dumbledore.  "I'm fine, Harry."

Harry frowned.  "Are you sure?  You look tired."

Hermione finally turned to face him and gave him a half-smile.  "Thanks," she said dryly.  Harry was about to apologize for how it sounded, but Hermione was quicker.  "I'm just tired, that's all.  A lot of late nights at St. Mungo's."

Harry patted her hand in sympathy.  "You know what I always say: you work too hard."

Hermione chuckled.  "You're one to talk, Mr. Potter."  But then her face grew serious.  "Did you hear about the MSARS fatality near Bristol?"  Harry nodded.  "We've really stepped up our work since then.  It's the first step, you know?  The first death…I'm so afraid of how many more there'll be.  We need to be able to find a cure or at least an effective treatment soon or-"

Harry saw Hermione was on the verge of tears, and he leaned over and took her in a hug.  She didn't protest like he was afraid she would, and she sniffled softly against his robe.  Ron gave them an alarmed look on her other side, but Harry gave him a look that would hopefully come off as reassuring.  After a few seconds, he felt Hermione start to pull away, and he reluctantly let her go.

She dabbed at her eyes.  "I'm sorry, Harry.  I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay Hermione.  You're under a lot of pressure, I understand."

She gave him a soft smile, and then sighed heavily.  "It's just that the victim…oh Harry, it's such a waste!  He was so young, just graduated from Doral, the little wizarding school up north?  He was Muggle-born, you know, like me.  It seems like all the deaths are Muggle-born.  Did you know he'd never been anywhere magical except for school?  His friends and neighbors said he was so excited when he got to London to work; he had never seen all the wizarding things that we have…his flat was filled with all the newest wizarding things, like the clock that told you if you were late, a wizarding wireless, a new stove, you know, one of the ones that looks Muggle but is really magical, and…"

Up to that point, Harry had been listening compassionately, knowing that Hermione had to let a few things out.  But the second she described the stove, something clicked in Harry's brain.  Gradually, pieces started to fall into place, forming a picture that was too horrible to believe.  Shacklebolt had said that the mysterious Malvagita had a plan to kill all Muggle-borns…Hermione had said it seemed like only Muggle-borns died from MSARS…the latest fatality had purchased a new stove… Harry and Robert had only looked at the broken machines, not the ones that still worked…an Auror had been killed using the same M.O. as Mediate and the Campbells…Tway had probably been murdered, something that would be quite excessive if this was merely a case of cheap parts. Harry shook his head, unwilling to believe what his brain was pointing towards, but he knew he had to find out for sure.

"Harry?  Are you okay?"

Harry looked blankly at Hermione, his mind still spinning.  "Hm?  What?"

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, putting the back of her hand against his forehead.  "You sorta zoned out there for a minute."

Harry stood suddenly.  "I...uh…I need to leave Hermione."

Hermione looked alarmed.  "Is everything okay?"

"I…I don't know.  I'll floo you, okay?"  Without waiting for a reply, Harry rushed away towards Hogsmeade.  Once he passed through Hogwarts' protective wards, he apparated to the Ministry.

*********************************

About an hour minutes later, Harry stood in the hallway outside of the dead man's flat.  With a surprising amount of difficulty, he had finally managed to get the address from St. Mungo's.  The flat had been quarantined, as the healers feared that there still might be a contagion inside.  After a bit of arm-twisting, Harry was allowed access as long as he wore the enchanted amulet, and procuring one required the filling out of a lot of paperwork.

The amulet was designed for healers to wear when working with highly infectious materials.  It was the wizarding version of a contamination suit, though far superior for it used magic.  The amulet created a field around the wearer that no substance could easily penetrate, while at the same time recycling the air by transporting fresh air from another location (a special room in St. Mungo's) and disposing of carbon dioxide in a similar manner.  The field wasn't powerful enough to withstand a spell or physical blow, but it would stop any germs from reaching the wearer.  The air replenishment feature of the amulet was very difficult and very tricky to charm in itself, it worked much like a miniature floo network, and that combined with the protective field made it very, very, very expensive – hence all the paperwork.  It was only through Harry's fame that he was finally able to persuade St. Mungo's to loan him one.  Before taking a cab over (the amulet was too delicate for apparition), Harry stopped by the Ministry to grab a few items that he felt would come in handy.  Finally, with the field activated, Harry entered the flat.

It was as Hermione had described.  Though small, it contained almost every imaginable magical household item, but Harry's attention resided solely on the stove in the kitchen.  Harry reached into the pockets of his robes and retrieved a small, round disk.  He attached the disk to the stove (the amulet's protective field sealing itself around Harry's fingers as he released the disk) and waved his wand.  There was a sizzle in the air, and a protective field was set around the stove.  

The small disk was similar in purpose to the amulet, though not nearly as delicate.  While the amulet's purpose was to protect what was _inside_ the field, while the disk protected those _outside_ the field.  It was commonly used by the wizarding equivalent of a bomb squad - explosives or suspicious packages were encased with the field.  Thought the field was not indestructible, it was strong enough to for most situations.  The field was also pliable, allowing Aurors to handle what was within much like a Muggle glove box.  Harry was confident that the disk, combined with the amulet, would protect him.

With the stove prepped, Harry began taking it apart with his wand, trying to remember where the coiled bit of metal that David Harrington had showed him was located.  After about two minutes, Harry spotted heating element.  Checking the disk still attached to the top of the stove, Harry saw that nothing had changed beyond the fact that it now lay in pieces – given that many spells and poisons were invisible to the naked eye, the disk would change colors whenever there was danger, from an explosion to the release of a poisonous gas, within the field.  Harry detached the disk and reattached it to the heating element before he gently removed it, holding it gingerly in his hands. 

Harry moved to the main sitting room where there was better light.  Harry held the heating element up to the window for a better look.  Unlike the pipes he had seen before, the heating element showed no signs of fault, no corrosion.  Harry decided to see what would happen to the coiled metal under normal use.  After first casting a basic levitation spell (so Harry wouldn't burn his fingers holding it), he then cast a heating spell on the metal.  Harry watched it started to grow red, and he progressively increased the temperature.  After about ten minutes of staring at the heating element, Harry was about to give up when a shrill, whistle-like sound filled the room, and the protective field momentarily flashed red before becoming invisible again.  Harry pressed his thumb to the now red disk, careful to avoid touching the hot metal, and silencing the alarm.  Harry examined the heating element carefully, and he noticed a small area where the metal had crumbled a bit.  Harry stood in the middle of the empty flat, excited at his discovery but a little unsure about what to do now.  He had to choose his next steps carefully, because if his suspicions were correct, it might start a panic.  Harry had to be sure that he was correct, and to be absolutely sure, he needed…

"Hermione Granger," Harry said into his mobile, holding it to his ear in voice-only mode.  One perquisite of Hermione being a healer, beyond the free medical services, was the fact that she also carried a wizarding mobile around - being a healer, she was often needed in emergencies.  Harry waited impatiently for a few minutes before her voice came over.

"This is Doctor Granger," she said in her professional voice.  Harry could hear other voices in the background.

"Hermione, it's Harry."

"Harry!" she hissed back.  "What's going on?  Are you okay?  You ran off so quickly!  Where are you?-"

"Hermione!" Harry said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going.  "I'm sorry for the way I ran off, but I really need your help."

"My help?"

"Can you meet me at your lab alone?  I need you to take a look at something."

"Are you hurt?  Did something happen?" she asked, the alarm evident in her voice.

"Yes - I mean no!  I'm fine Hermione, but I really need you to take a look at something for me.  It's an emergency!"

"Right now?  They're doing very interesting rituals here at the memorial to honor the dead using a number of intricate-"

"Hermione!  Please?" 

After a moment of silence, while Harry could picture her mentally debating whether or not to leave, she finally agreed to meet him.  Harry reminded her to meet him alone and told her that this was to be kept secret for now.  After ending the call, Harry made his way back down to the street where he hailed a cab. 

*********************************

Harry had been to Hermione's lab several times when they had been dating.  Although technically he wasn't allowed to roam the halls of St. Mungo's without permission, his Auror credentials and his scar pretty much let him do as he pleased.  He arrived at Hermione's lab to find her waiting there impatiently.

"Harry Potter!  First you tell me it's an emergency, and then you take your sweet time getting here!" she said indignantly.

Harry raised his hands in apology.  "I'm sorry Hermione, but I had to take Muggle transportation.  You know I can't apparate with this thing on," he said, indicating the amulet he wore.

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the amulet and realized its possible implications.  "All right, what's so important?"  Harry offered her the heating element.  "What is it?" she asked, examining it closely.

"It's…something I found, and I have a hunch about it.  Do you have one of these for yourself" – Harry held up the amulet – "or do you want mine?"

Hermione shook her head and returned the heating element to Harry.  "I have one," she said as she went over to a cabinet.  Unlocking it with her wand, she rummaged inside and pulled out her own amulet, which she put around her neck before rejoining Harry.

Harry put the heating element on the table.  "It's got a protective field around it, you know, the ones we use for explosives and stuff?" Hermione nodded her head.  "Can you examine it with the field still on?  I want whatever's in there to stay in there."

"I think so."  Hermione took the metal and put it in another device that looked like a small box.  "What do you think is 'in there'?" she asked as she began to fiddle with the box.

"I'd…I'd rather you tell me."  

Hermione gave him a curious look but said nothing.  Harry waited in silence until she was finished with the box.  Then, she took what looked like a pair of Muggle binoculars and attached it to the top of the box.  Harry watched as she began to examine the heating element.  He heard a quick intake of breath, and then she began to adjust the dials and other controls on the box.   "Harry," she said, not looking up, "what…where did you find this?"

"What did you find?" Harry asked, avoiding her question.

Hermione looked up.  "It's…odd.  There seems to be a vapor trapped inside the field that seems to be…leaking, for lack of a better word, from the metal itself, or at least from a specific a point in the metal.  The vapor…well, I know this might sound a bit crazy…"

"I've heard plenty of crazy things.  What about the vapor?"

Instead of answering immediately, Hermione pulled a sheet of parchment out of the side of the box and then walked over to a bookcase against the wall.  She searched for and pulled out a book and motioned for Harry to join her.  She opened the book to a specific page and handed it to him along with the parchment.

Harry took them both and looked at the moving picture on the page.  "Interesting…" he said thoughtfully.  "Er, what am I looking at?"

Hermione sighed.  "See this picture in the book?  It's a picture of an MSARS microbe.  See the other picture?  It's a picture of vapor from your metal."

Harry squinted his eyes as he compared the two pictures closely.  "They look alike…but also sorta different."

Hermione nodded.  "Your vapor contains an altered form of the MSARS microbe.  MSARS is not airborne, but see the little hair-like protrusions on the edges?  I think that gives the microbes in your vapor the ability to travel through the air.  The normal MSARS microbe doesn't have the little hairs."

Harry looked at her.  "So, what does this mean?"

"I'm not sure…but…"

"But what?"

Hermione looked agitated.  "I'm afraid that all things we've been through together might be affecting my judgment.  I mean, with everything we went through together at school, with Voldemort, and then hearing all your stories from work, I think I'm seeing things that aren't there."

"What do you mean?"

"I…I think the gas is a carrier of MSARS, like a biological weapon or something.  But it can't be, right?  I mean, who would do something like that?  I must be wrong.  Please, tell me I'm wrong," she said almost desperately.

But Harry didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the box where the heating element still lay.

**A/N: **And now the evil scheme has been revealed!  Now all Harry has to do is find and deal with the evildoer responsible.  Oh, and a possible panic when people find out that their stoves and laundry machines are trying to kill them.

**Here's my important question:** I've noticed with this story that I'm putting in a lot more detail and dialogue.  In my other stories I'd use the old "and then a few weeks went by," but here I've describing each day in detail.  Is that bad?  Is the story going to slowly?  Want a bit (or a lot) more action and less talk?  For instance, previously I spent a chapter described the planning session among the Aurors when I could have just written, "they met and planned, and Harry found out that..." and the next scene could be a lot of dialogue between Harry and Hermione talking about what they found, and they Harry telling his bosses, or I could use one paragraph of exposition to say "Harry talked to Hermione and then he told his bosses."  Let me know what you think, I could go either way.

**Rachel09: **Hi there!  I'm not sure if you're reading this story, but thanks for reading my other one.  Hopefully it's not _too_ weird for you :)****

**aestus: **Well, now you know why I never responded to you way back when, you big rotter!  Just kidding!  Anyways, you predicted my entire diabolical plot a month ago!  Argh!  Bet you can't guess what happens next!  No, wait, better not.

**Maxx77: **I haven't replied to you yet, since you haven't asked any questions, but I definitely wanted to say thanks for always reviewing!

**Onkel:** You think _you_ were half-hearted when I came up with all those new character?  Man, it was a pain having to think of all those names (it's such a bother I didn't make a name for the MSARS victim in this chapter).  I had to make up a cast of characters page just so I could keep track of who did what and who died when.

**HPFanFicLuvr:** Wow! Thanks for the long review!  So much to respond to!  Anyways…I read all those quotes from JKR (and the infamous Dateline interview), and my opinion is that she's being completely honest, but only to the extent of whatever book she's being interviewed about.  And she's right, so far, there's been nothing between H & Hr, no clues up to Book 4 that they will be together, and there's been tension between R & Hr (only on Ron's side of course).  But it doesn't mean that in Book 6 or 7 things will change, and nothing she's said or ever will say will reveal the ending…I think Rick's done, I only used him to add to Harry's angst…I keep forgetting about Hedwig!  Must write a reminder down somewhere…I'll keep your point about flashbacks in mind, maybe a short ditty about Voldie and Harry's first few cases.  Thanks again!

**sethro72: **I have all these scenes for _Decisions_ in my head already. I'd actually start it now, but I can't leave this one unfinished.  No sequel for _New Identity _though – I can't think of a plot for one.

**Risty:** The Wall at Hogwarts is based on the Vietnam War Memorial.  I'm not sure if there are similar walls out there, but I'm pretty sure there's not one like it in America (at least not a federal memorial).  I could be wrong though.

**Alatoci01:** it's hard for me to decide how powerful Harry is.  I mean, in OotP, he showed a bit of wandless magic in the beginning (and that Lumos in the alley was pretty significant since I think it was the first time he did it on purpose), so he's got to be pretty powerful, but I don't want to make him overly powerful.  Ah well.  There will be more H/Hr, so shippers rejoice!


	16. Passing the Buck

**1/9/03:  **Strange how inspiration hits sometimes.  I was in bed, ready for blissful sleep to take me when this chapter sprang into my head.  Thanks everyone for reviewing and answering my question from the last chapter.  Long A/N at the end with more questions.

Have a great weekend!

**16. Passing the Buck******

"Harry?"

Hermione's voice brought Harry back from his thoughts.  He tore his eyes from the box and looked at Hermione, immediately noticing that the color had seemed to drain from her face.  "I…I honestly don't know yet, Hermione," Harry said quickly, and then started to pace the room.  "I need to think." 

A part of Harry was excited that there was finally a break in the case, that they had a credible motive for the murders.  But another part of Harry was uncertain, and a little bit afraid; this knowledge that he now possessed, what could he…what should he do with it?  He simply couldn't run to the Daily Prophet and announce to the wizarding world that their appliances are trying to kill them – it might start a panic that could quickly grow out of control.  But at the same time, lives were at stake; every second Harry kept the information within meant that another magical could contract the deadly disease.  The one thing Harry _did _know was that he couldn't make this decision himself; this decision had to be made by someone with far more authority than he.  Harry stopped his pacing and turned to Hermione.  She looked back at him expectantly.

When Harry didn't speak, Hermione grew impatient.  "Well?"

"Is…is there any chance you can find a cure, now that you have the other microbe?" Harry asked.  When Hermione gave him an incredulous look, Harry was quick to defend himself.   "I saw this Muggle movie on the television the other night…there was some disease spreading, but they found the monkey that started it all and found a cure from it," he said sheepishly.

Hermione shook her head.  "It doesn't work that way with magical diseases like MSARS.  Most magical maladies are made by accident, but seeing the vapor, I believe MSARS was purposefully created.  If that's the case, and if I could get my hands on the recipe, or even the cauldron on which it was brewed, I could probably find a cure."

"Okay, I understand.  In that case…I need you to come with me."

Hermione looked surprised.  "What?  Where are we going?  And you never answered my first question anyways: what does this all mean?" she demanded.

Harry tried to formulate a response, an answer that would satisfy all her questions, but events were catching up to him, the discovery weighing him down.  He shook his head in frustration, trying his best to think in a clear, organized fashion.  Fortunately, Hermione seemed to understand, and she put a hand on his shoulder.  "Hey," she in a soothing voice.  "It's okay, Harry.  What do you want me to do?"

Harry looked at her gratefully, and took a deep breath.  For some reason, knowing Hermione was there, knowing that she shared in his secret (though she didn't know all the details yet) allowed him to calm down.  He smiled briefly and then sprang into action, taking her by surprise.  "We need to talk to someone, now," he said firmly as he opened the box, removed the heating element, and put it in one of the deep pockets in his robe.  Harry looked around.  "Bring that book and the parchment you showed me."

Hermione nodded and grabbed the two items.  Without asking any more questions, she followed him out of her lab and through the halls of St. Mungo's until they reached the street outside.  Harry looked up and down the street, and then raised his hand when he spotted a taxi.

"Wait," Hermione said, grabbing his arm and pulling it down.  "Let me grab my car, and I'll pick you up.  It'll be easier that way."

"All right, I'll be here waiting."

Hermione took off her amulet and handed it to Harry before disapparating with a crack, presumably to her flat to pick up her car.  While he waited, Harry made a call on his mobile.  A few minutes later Hermione pulled up alongside Harry in her car.  Despite the revelations of the day, Harry couldn't help but smile.  He reached down and opened the door, climbing into the car.

"Nice," he said appreciatively at the leather interior and fancy looking devices. 

Hermione smiled. "Thanks!  It's new, just got it a few months ago.  So, where to?"

"My place first…I need to get this" – Harry patted the metal coil in his robe – "somewhere safe."

Hermione nodded.  Then, with a smug look, said, "Watch this."  Hermione started pressing some buttons on the center console, programming in Harry's address.  Finished, she looked at him.  "Ready?"

"Ready," Harry confirmed, though _what_ he was supposed to be ready for, he wasn't sure.

Hermione just grinned and pressed a final button.  Immediately, the car sprang to life, weaving and dodging its way through the light London traffic.  Harry took a moment to brace himself, before noticing that Hermione was still looking at him, not at the road.  "Hermione," he said panicky, "watch the road!  There's a car-" Harry cringed as they were heading for an oncoming car, and then was flabbergasted when the car swiftly moved around the other car and took a quick left turn.  He looked in shock at Hermione, who still hadn't turned to look at the road or to even put her hands on the steering wheel.  "Wha.."

Hermione gave him a look of mock disappointment.  "Really, Harry, I would've thought you'd know all about the latest in magical cars.  You are a guy, after all."

"You know I hate riding in these things," he said a bit petulantly.  

Hermione chuckled.  "Sometimes you are _such _a Muggle, Harry Potter.  It's the latest thing, Harry.  All you have to do is program in the destination, and the car does the work for you."

"Then why the steering wheel, pedals, and all the other normal car things?"

"Oh Harry," Hermione said in her you-should-know-better voice.  "I don't want to have a separate car in case I see Muggles.  Ah, here we are."

Harry looked out the window and saw his building come into view.  "All right, wait here?  I'll be just a minute."  Hermione nodded, and Harry climbed out of the car and entered his building.  After securing the heating element in a safe, with protection and locking charms so powerful only Dumbledore stood a chance of breaking them, Harry returned to the car.  

"Where now?" Hermione asked, poised to enter in a new address.

"Amelia Bones' residence."

*********************************

Madam Bones lived in a large, comfortable looking house in a very ritzy part of London.  As Hermione pulled up to the gated driveway, a large wizard in Muggle clothing walked up to them while another one looked at them warily.  Rolling down the window, Hermione handed the wizard her ID card and Harry's Auror credentials.  The wizard examined the documents with a Muggle flashlight, and then used it to look into the car, peering at Harry and Hermione as well as the back seat.  Seemingly satisfied, the man returned their Ids.  "Madam Bones is expecting you.  Please drive up," he said tonelessly.  The gate started to open.

"Thanks," Hermione said, and then rolled the window back up and drove up to the house.  "Chipper fellow," she said dryly.

Harry chuckled.  "Well, they're not paid to be polite."  The wizard who passed them through was a member of the Minister's Guard, tasked with the protection of the Minister and top-ranking officials.  Many considered the Minister's Guards as an elite force.  Powerful wizards and witches each, members of the Guard received constant and grueling training in all aspects of defensive and offensive magic.  Though Harry believed he could easily take out one or two of them in a duel, he was less confident about his chances against a full squad.  Being a member of the Guard was an honor, and they took their job of protection very seriously, almost fanatically.  It was also, Harry believed, a very boring job.  Though they trained endlessly, the Guard very rarely had cause to use their wands.  Ninety-nine percent of the time, their mere presence was deterrent enough to anyone thinking of evil deeds, but it was that one percent of the time when all their training was worth it.

Madam Bones, as a member of the Minister's cabinet and the Chief of MLE, rated protection by the Minister's Guards.  She was, by all accounts, the most powerful and influential member of the Ministry, possibly rivaling the Minister himself.  One of the few high-ranking officials that survived the purging that occurred after Harry uncovered the political scandal (the same one that sent Percy Weasley away), Madam Bones re-organized the entire MLE and ran it effectively and efficiently.  Many believed that she could easily become the next Minister of Magic, had her political aspirations led her in that direction.  As it was, she seemed more than content to remain as Chief of MLE.

More Guards greeted them as they pulled up to the entrance to the house.  One Guard relieved them of the car, ostensibly acting as a valet-service, but more likely they wanted to make sure that the car wasn't going to blow up outside Madam Bones' house - a bit of paranoia was definitely in the job requirement for a Guard.  

"Good evening.  Your wands, please," the other Guard said as they approached the door.  Hermione looked at Harry uncertainly, then followed his lead and handed over her wand to the Guard.  "Thank you," he said.  They entered the Bones' residence, and a house elf led them from the foyer to another room, where Madam Bones sat with her family.

Amelia rose as soon as they entered.  "Ah, Mr. Potter and Miss…Granger, isn't it?"

"That's _Doctor _Granger," Harry said without thinking, immediately regretting it and hoping he didn't sound overly rude.  Fortunately, Amelia took no offence.

"Of course, of course, Dr. Granger.  How lovely to see you again."

"Likewise," Hermione said.  Harry and Hermione then traded greetings with Madam Bones' husband and her youngest soon, a seventh-year at Hogwarts.  Harry recalled that Madam Bones had two other children, but he couldn't remember what they did or where they were.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Amelia said, looking directly at Harry.  The pleasantries were over.  "You definitely peaked my curiosity.  What did you need to see me about that was an emergency?  And where is your partner and your Chief?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk about this in private?" Harry asked.

Amelia nodded.  "Follow me."  Harry and Hermione followed Amelia through the house until they reached what must've been her personal study room.  Amelia walked over to her desk and sat behind it, gesturing at the two chairs in front of her.  "Can I get you anything?  Tea, or a biscuit, perhaps?"

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads.  "No thank you, but…I was hoping to speak with you in absolute privacy," Harry said, inclining his head towards the one Guard that stood silently in the corner.

"I appreciate your concern, but the Minister's Guards have all taken an oath of secrecy about what they observe," Amelia said.

"I understand, Madam, but, with all due respect, oaths can be broken, either willingly or unwillingly."

Amelia regarded him curiously for a moment.  "Very well.  Charles, please leave and lock the door behind you."

"But-" the Guard protested.

"That is all," Amelia said firmly, in a voice that invited no argument. 

Once the Guard left, Harry leaned forwards.  "Excuse me, Madam Bones, would you mind if I borrowed your wand to cast a few silencing spells?"

Amelia looked surprised at the question, and then chuckled.  "I suppose it wouldn't matter if I told you that this room is absolutely secure and private, will it?  No, I didn't think it would."  Amelia opened a desk drawer and retrieved a wand, offering it Harry.

"Thank you Madam Bones," Harry said before casting his spells.  Though he didn't need a wand to cast these particular spells, Harry knew it be best not to reveal the extent of his powers.  Once completed, Harry returned the wand and thanked her again.

"All right then," Amelia said, "now you've definitely got my attention.  What's going on Potter?"

With an encouraging look from Hermione, Harry began to explain the events of the day, beginning with a quick update of the case and the events of last night's fatal accident.  He glossed over the memorial at Hogwarts and went instead directly to Harry's actions in the flat and finally to Hermione's discovery.  As Hermione herself hadn't heard any of this, she was just as enraptured as Amelia.  He let Hermione take over telling the rest of the story, where she explained the testing procedure and described her results and theory, showing her the MSARS picture from the book and the picture from the examination box.  Amelia examined the two pictures, then stood up and walked to the window, staring into the night.  "Who else knows about this, about your suspicions?" she asked once Harry finished.

Harry fidgeted.  "Um, no one except for you and Hermione."  Then, Harry said very quickly, "I normally wouldn't have gone outside the chain of command, but I felt that dissemination of this information, at least at this stage, was best kept minimal."

Amelia seemed to think about that for a while.  Finally, she spoke.  "I highly disapprove of going outside channels, you know that Potter, but I think in this case, you acted correctly."  Harry looked relieved.  "Now, you two have had more time to process everything.  Recommendations?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look and shrugged simultaneously.  They had argued back and forth on the car ride over on what they should do, the argument becoming rather heated at one point.  Initially, Hermione was adamant that they should let the public know of the danger, while Harry was equally insistent that they should wait.  It was a really a reflection of their jobs: Hermione, as a healer, was first and foremost focused on saving as many lives as she could.  Harry, on the other hand, was a bit more pragmatic in dealing with death, being of the opinion that a few deaths may be necessary for the greater good.  Harry was reluctant to even argue with her at all given how recent their friendship had been re-established, but he knew he had to get her to agree to abide by Madam Bones' decision, even if it meant keeping it a secret for now.  Fortunately, their argument in the car didn't escalate to an icy silence; in fact, it was much like their arguments in the past, where each realized that the other had their points, even if they didn't agree.  Having discussed this already, Harry and Hermione presented both arguments to Madam Bones.

Amelia listened carefully to both arguments.  "Well," she said grimly, after they had finished, "I think this decision is beyond me."  Amelia reached over to a small gold plate that lay on her desk.  Waving her hand over the plate, a small fire grew from the center of the plate.  Amelia reached into her desk and pulled out a small bag, from which she took a pinch of powder and threw it into the flames.  "Minster of Magic," she said.

After a minute or so, the Minister's smiling head appeared above the golden plate.  "Amelia?  What a pleasant surprise."

"Indeed Thomas, but I wish I were calling under better circumstances.  I need a few moments of your time, immediately."

"Immediately?"

Amelia nodded.  "Mr. Potter and Dr. Granger brought some very disturbing news to my attention this evening, news that you need to be made aware of."  The Minister's head swiveled to look at Harry and Hermione, and then back to Amelia.  

"Very well.  Please come over immediately."

*********************************

Harry was afraid that getting to the Minister's home would be much like getting to Amelia's home – a harrowing car ride, going through security – but he was pleased to find out that Amelia had a direct floo to the Minister's home.  In a blur of green fire, Harry spun his way over to the Minister's home.  He emerged lightly and, to his surprise, unsoiled in the Minister's study, where Amelia and Hermione had already arrived.  As Harry straightened his robes, he noticed the Minister's Guards leaving the room and realized that Amelia must have already stressed the need for privacy.

"Well, before we begin, I want to say it is an honor to meet you Mr. Potter," the Minister said, shaking his hand.  Harry was not surprised that he had to endure a few minutes of small talk before they got down to business - the Minister was, after all, a politician.

Amelia quickly described the situation to the Minister, leaving out the facts of the investigation that would have no bearing on the Minister's decision.  As Amelia talked, the Minister's face grew pale, and by the end of the story, he had his head buried in his hands, a very different reaction then Amelia's.  Finally, he looked up.  "So Amelia, what do we do?"

"Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have come up with excellent reasons why people should and should not be told."

The Minster looked at the two.  "Okay.  So what are they?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and Harry inclined his head, letting her know she should go first.  Hermione cleared her throat.  "Well, essentially by telling people we will be saving lives, Minister.  People die from MSARS, it's as simple as that.  The longer we wait to warn the public, the greater the number of people who will contract the disease and die."

The Minister chuckled dryly.  "Yes, a very effective argument.  And Mr. Potter?  The reasons why we should keep this bit of news to ourselves?"

"Two reasons Minister.  One: letting everyone know that their washing machine is trying to kill them could start a panic…the hospitals would be filled with people with imaginary symptoms…the industry would be ruined for years…companies would go out of business, people would lose their jobs."

"What if we warned them, but without letting the real story out?  Left out a few details?" the Minister asked.

"Depending on the message, it might work, but Minister, there's a second reason…if we warn the public, it'll tip our hand and alert whoever did this, and we might never catch him.  And," Harry said, looking over at Hermione, "if we can catch the guy responsible, find what he used to make the vapor, Hermione can find a cure for MSARS.  But if he disappears, we may never find a cure."

"What if you're wrong?" the Minister asked.  "What if there isn't anyone responsible?  What if this is all just a big mistake?"

Harry sat quietly.  "It is possible that I'm wrong, that I'm seeing things that aren't there," he admitted.  "But I know I'm not wrong," he said firmly.

The Minister slumped in his chair.  "I…I need to think about this, to sleep on it."  After a moment, he stood up, prompting the others to stand as well.  He led them back towards the fireplace.  "In the meantime, until I have made my decision, we need to keep this quiet.  Only the four of us know this, right?"  Everyone nodded.  "Good, so if I read about killer dishwashers in the Daily Prophet tomorrow, I'll know where to start when trying to find out who talked.  Amelia?  I'll let you know what I decide shortly."

"Yes Minister," Amelia said formally.  "Good night Thomas."  Harry and Hermione also said their farewells and floo'ed back to Amelia's home.

**A/N: **Well, not a lot of action here.  Actually, there hasn't been a lot of action anywhere so far, has there?  I guess it's not that type of story.  

Okay, before I get accused of being a heartless bastard for wanting to keep the cause of MSARS a secret, I hope I made the argument clear.  Statistically, the chances of dying from MSARS is very low.  Malvagita didn't want a plague-type disease to wipe out Muggleborns.  It would be too obvious, and everyone would work hard to find a cure, to quarantine Muggleborns, etc.  While a plague would probably kill a lot at first, it's more likely a cure will be found quickly with everyone focusing on it.  MSARS is more subtle.  It infects both magical and Muggleborn alike, and not all muggleborns die from it.  Since it seems relatively controllable (people will think they can quarantine it), finding a cure is not the highest priority.  This way, in ten or twenty years, Malvagita can slowly wipe out most of the Muggleborns, and since you can't really stop a Muggleborn magical from being born, MSARS will still be around to take care any new ones.

So, Harry believes they should keep it a secret until they find the culprit, believing a few deaths in the meantime would be worth it.  Hermione, as a healer, instinctively abhors any death in any numbers.

Also, imagine if there was a news story that stoves cause cancer in real life.  Talk about a panic!  Beyond the obvious problem of how do you cook your food and what to do with a killer stove in your home, any foodservice business would probably shut down since they use stoves to their food.  Appliance stores would be hurt or go out of business since no one wants a killer stove (like Magical Solutions), and the companies that make stoves would also be hurt or go out of business (like General Magics).  And, even if they find a cure or solve the problem, people will still be wary of buying stoves, so it will affect the industry for a while before consumer confidence is regained.  Plus, this is worldwide, so factor that into the equation.  So, this leads me to my first question:

**Question 1: **So, what do you think?  It really has no bearing on how the story will end (the resolution of the case), but should they tell people about MSARS?

**Question 2:** All right, since I've accepted that my chapters are long and detailed, I realize I don't have the motivation to edit them more than once.  Some people may say if you do something, you should do it right…I'm not one of those.  I probably need a beta of some sort otherwise these chapters will be unreadable.  How does that work?  Any volunteers?  Must be an H/Hr shipper though.

**General response to all reviewers:  **thank you so much for letting me know what you think about the level of detail.  I'll keep the detail (as you can see by this chapter), though I'll try and cut out the parts I think are boring.  Speak up if it starts to drag!  I _think _things will pick up as they get close to nabbing the bad guy, but there's still a ways to go.  Also, now that we know that MSARS and Harry's case are connected, there'll be more H/Hr interaction ahead, including a hotel room (no dirty thoughts though, those aren't allowed on ff.net!)  Oh, Akuma-sama, your advice made me laugh!  


	17. Changing Venues

**2/5/04:  **My goodness!  I'm very sorry for the long time since an update.  So I don't bore you here, my reasons are at the end.  You can thank **Akuma-sama** and **Facade1** for kicking my butt in gear and getting this chapter out.

**17. Changing Venues******

The ride home from the Bones' residence was spent mostly in silence, as Harry and Hermione were occupied with their own thoughts.  Though Harry had hoped for some decisive action, he could understand the Minister's predicament: not only did he have to think about public safety, he also had his own career to worry about.  Harry could imagine the Minister sitting at his desk, basing the decision on which option would damage his career the least if things went bad.  Soon enough, they arrived in front of Harry's building.

"Well, here we are," said Hermione.

"Yeah."  Harry paused, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.  "Well, um…do you want to come up for a bit?  Talk about it?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable as well.  "I can't – I have an early morning tomorrow." 

"Okay, thanks for ride.  Good night Hermione."

"Good night Harry."

Harry stood on the curb and watched as Hermione drove away, his shoulders slumped.  Just a few years ago, his invitation, and her acceptance of it, would have been second nature.  Just a few years ago, they would have spent hours talking about the horrible thing they had just learned, their opinions, their fears, everything.  But things were still strained between them.  As Harry stood by the empty street, he suddenly realized how much he missed her friendship.  Ron was great, but he was a guy.  He was someone Harry could joke around with, have fun with, and get drunk with.  But he wasn't someone with whom Harry felt comfortable sharing his feelings, his innermost thoughts – that person had always been Hermione.  Years of angsting had allowed him to forget all of that, but now, standing on a lonely sidewalk with a heavy burden on his shoulders, Harry missed Hermione's friendship very much.  Thus, with a heavy heart, Harry made his way to his flat and climbed into bed, pausing only to remove his robes and the protective amulet.

*********************************

Harry was awoken the next morning by a loud ringing.  Rolling over, Harry opened his eyes and blearily peered at the alarm clock, which read 12:14pm.  A momentarily twinge of panic ran through his chest until it was replaced by relief when he remembered that he didn't have to go into work today.  Relief was then followed by severe irritation at the ringing that had interrupted his day to sleep-in.  After five fruitless minutes of hoping the caller would give up, Harry pulled himself to his feet and, after a quick stop at the bathroom, rummaged through his robes until he found his mobile.  He flipped it open, but no head appeared in the fire.  Annoyed, Harry placed his mobile on the kitchen table and slumped into a chair.

"All right, I'm here!" he called out grumpily.  After a minute (which did not serve to improve his mood), his caller appeared.  Harry immediately sat up straight, unconsciously running a hand through his hair.

"Madam Bones," he said politely.

"Ah, Mr. Potter.  While I do understand that it is your day off, I expect my Aurors to be more responsive when called."

"My apologies.  You see Madam Bones, I uh, was busy, er, fixing breakfast – I mean lunch!"

Madam Bones seemed to give him a once-over before shaking her head slightly.  "Anyways…a decision has been made."

"Yes ma'am?"

"For the meantime we will keep our discussion to ourselves.  I want to take care of a few things before we take action.  I will let you know more tomorrow.  Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good."  Madam Bones seemed about to sign off, but reconsidered.  "I've already contacted your friend…fortunately she was not too busy _making lunch_ and answered her floo.  Plus, she had somehow found the time to change into new clothes."

Harry fidgeted.  "Um, yes, er-"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Potter," she said, and then disappeared.  Harry groaned loudly, hoping that his appearance wasn't as slovenly as he feared.  One look in the mirror, though, dashed away any of those hopes.  

After making himself more presentable, Harry threw some floo powder into his fireplace and called out, "Hermione Granger!"  He had debated with himself whether or not he should call her.  On the one hand, he really wanted to see her, but on the other had, he didn't want to seem overly desperate to be with her.  Besides, she was probably out with Rick.  In the end, Harry decided that he _should_ call her if only to make sure she got Madam Bones' message (ignoring the fact that Madam Bones already said that she had).  And if Hermione wanted to talk or meet up later, well, that would be nice.

After a few seconds, while horrid images of her and Rick flashed through his brain, he heard her voice through the fireplace.  Harry kneeled on one of the cushions and stuck his head into the green flames.

Hermione face suddenly filled his vision as Harry realized she was using her mobile.  "Hi Harry," she said in a tired voice.  She seemed somewhat harried.

"Hi Hermione.  Did you talk to Madam Bones?"

"Yeah, she called this morning."

"Good.  So…"

"Sorry Harry, but I have to run.  Lots of work to do here.  I'll talk to you later."

Before Harry could respond, she flipped her mobile closed, and Harry had no choice but to pull his head back.  He sighed sadly, and then got to his feet.

The rest of the day passed in a slow haze of frustrating inactivity.  Normally, Harry would either be relaxing the day away, reading the Sunday Prophet and perhaps a light lunch with Ron.  Or, he would be hard at work, making the world safe for wizardkind.  But today, Harry desperately wanted to work, but he could not until Madam Bones took care of whatever she was doing.  And with the knowledge of what was happening, Harry found he couldn't relax.  He did try his best though.  After lunch, Harry went to a wizarding park where he flew for several hours on his broom.  Though his injury from his final battle with Voldemort precluded him from the rigors of Quidditch, he could still fly lazy circles in the air.  It wasn't the same, but it was better than nothing.  After a small dinner of take-out (**A/N:** I know it's called something different in the UK, but I can't remember what), Harry went to bed, grateful that the day had finally ended.

*********************************

The one thing Harry hadn't expected to see was in full force when he arrived at the Bullpen: normalcy.  It was as if it were a regular Monday morning, and not as if the most disturbing discovery since the return of Voldemort had occurred two nights before.  In fact, Harry spent the entire morning stuck deep in normalcy, reviewing case files that were to go to court, filling out paperwork, and getting an update on the Tway accident (confirmed magical involvement, no suspects).  Harry was very curious if Tonks had managed to track Tway's last owl, but she was nowhere to be found.  Finally, halfway through the afternoon, Chief Kaye entered the Bullpen.  "All right, listen up!  Toms, Potter, Clarke, Price.  Follow me." 

Robert gave Harry a suspicious look as they walked out of the Bullpen.  As they followed the Chief, Robert leaned over and whispered, "You've been acting funny all day.  You knew this was going to happen, right?  You were expecting this."  Harry only shrugged, prompting a hard stare from Robert.  Chief Kaye led them to a conference room where Madam Bones, Chief Shacklebolt, Captain Perry, and Tonks were sitting.

Madam Bones looked up as soon as they entered.  "Good.  Find a seat quickly, we don't have much time."  Harry took the chair nearest to him and sat down.  Madam Bones waited a few seconds to be sure everyone was seated before she continued.  "Mr. Potter has made a rather frightening discovery this weekend.  The details are not important, but I have taken it upon myself to devise a new plan."  Harry tried valiantly not to look down or squirm as he felt the weight of several unfriendly eyes upon him.  Madam Bones must have noticed it too.  "All right, let's address that now.  Pay attention," she said loudly, ensuring all eyes were now back on her.  "Potter came across his discovery while at the memorial for an old classmate at Hogwarts this weekend.  I happen to be there as well.  Since I was there, Potter ran his theory by me.  I listened, and I explicitly ordered him _not_ to tell anyone else, not his Chief, his Captain, or even his partner.  Furthermore, I have ordered him _not_ to divulge his discovery without my authorization.  No further discussion on this point will be entertained.  Everyone understand?"

Nods and sounds of affirmation followed, as Harry gave Madam Bones a grateful smile.  Harry knew that without Madam Bones little white lie, he would have been in a world of trouble for going outside of channels, and especially for not telling Robert.  Madam Bones gave him an excuse as well as a way out of answering future questions.

"Good," Madam Bones continued.  "Now, I have every reason to believe that Malvagita is responsible for the murders."  Madam Bones ignored the murmurs that her sudden and rather surprising announcement caused.  "I have spent the weekend talking to my counterpart in America.  Though they do not believe they can pinpoint his location as yet, I believe that with S&I's trace of Tway's owl we can find this self-proclaimed dark lord."  Harry looked over at Tonks, briefly wondering what she had found.  Madam Bones continued.  "As such, I am sending you five" – she pointed at the four detectives and Tonks – "to America to find and arrest Malvagita.  You will be working closely with the Americans on this; a representative of their government will meet you at their floo'port.  Madam Bones produced five small envelopes and tossed them in their general direction.  Harry reached over and grabbed the one with his name.  "Floo tickets," Madam Bones explained as Harry opened the letter.  "You will be leaving late tonight, so go home, pack, and attend to any personal business.  That's all.  Good luck.  Dismissed."  Madam Bones stood (causing everyone else to stand) and left the room, leaving a rather bewildered group of Aurors behind.

"Er…yeah," Robert said, looking over his ticket.

"All right then," Chief Kaye said, "you heard the lady.  Get going."

"Good luck," Chief Shacklebolt echoed, and then the two Chiefs left the room, Captain Perry trailing behind.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Robert spoke up.  "Okay, you heard the boss.  Everyone go home and do what you have to do.  Meet at the airport at" – Robert checked his ticket – "11pm.  After we get to America and get a good night's sleep, we'll meet with the Americans and find out what the heck is going on."  With that, the meeting ended, and the Aurors filed out of the room, Tonks towards the S&I floor and the others towards the Bullpen.  Harry hung back a little until he could speak to Robert without the others hearing.

"Listen Robert," Harry said softly, "I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you-"

Robert held up his hand, cutting Harry off.  "Believe me kid, I've been in this business long enough to know when to mind my own business.  It's okay."

Harry smiled, relieved.  "Thanks Robert."

*********************************

For many years, wizards and witches had to rely on Muggle methods for international travel, much to their collective embarrassment.  The fact was that apparating across an ocean was impossible (not that many magicals could apparate in the first place), and the floo network was really reliable for short distances only, especially considering how dizzy one would become if stuck in the floo network for a long trip.  Flying a broom over the ocean wasn't much better, as not only would it take hours, but flying across miles and miles of endless ocean was a harrowing prospect.  Besides, neither method would allow for much baggage.  That left ships and airplanes.

All that started to change about seventy years ago when a witch by the name of Elissa Andrade discovered a method to expand the size of a floo corridor, allowing large objects to be sent through the network.  This, of course, required some rather large fireplaces to be built, and the immediate benefit was realized by businesses that could now transport large objects through the network rather than rely on concealed magical transports.  However, since the object would still spin rapidly, very delicate objects still had to be sent normally.

Then, just ten years later, to solve this particular problem, Margaret Sutherland devised a capsule that would prevent its contents from spinning – the outer shell of the capsule itself would still spin, but inner shell and objects within would remain still.  From there, it was only a matter of time until the capsule could be applied to larger and larger objects.  Attempts were made to create capsules for individual travel, but these failed due to the high cost of a capsule and the coffin-like atmosphere it caused.  Later on, someone realized that if a capsule could be built that could contain something the size of the Knight Bus, then perhaps it would be possible to use the floo network to transport several people at once in comfort.  This eventually led to the creation of an international floo network and several floo'ports in each country, essentially enormous fireplaces that were connected to the international floo network.  It was to the floo'port in London that Harry arrived at 10:50pm.

Packing took next to no time at all for Harry.  He always had a bag ready just in case, and he simply had to add extra clothes for the trip.  After packing, he briefly spoke with Ron and let him know that he'd be gone in America for a while and promised to bring him back something, preferably something with alcohol.  He tried, and failed, to contact Hermione, but planned to try again later.  With several hours yet to go, Harry had a light dinner and a quick nap before apparating to the floo'port.

The floo'port was busy as always; not only was it used for international travel, but many magicals used the floo'port to travel across the country, deciding that the price of a ticket was worth the smooth and quick travel.  Harry checked in at his gate, where he found he was to floo to the city of Chicago, and then found a seat to wait until his tube (the common name for their capsule) was called.  Pulling out a Muggle book (he still preferred Muggle fiction to wizarding fiction), Harry prepared himself to read until a sight caught his attention.

"Hermione?"

Hermione Granger, loaded down with a very large bag, came up to him, a bright smile on her face.  "Harry!"

Harry stood and refrained from trying to give her hug.  It was still too soon.  "What are you doing here?" he asked, confused.

"Same as you, silly!  Aren't you excited?  I've never been to America before!"

"Whoa, hold on a second.  What makes you think you're coming with us?" Harry asked sternly.

Hermione just smiled and plopped into the seat beside him, her bag landing at her feet.  "Oh Harry, still the same…" she said tolerantly.  "Madam Bones called me Sunday, and we talked about, well, you know.   She asked me to come along since I'm the expert here."

"We'll see about that," Harry said as he started to rise to his feet.  

But Hermione was faster.  She instantly jumped to her feet and stood in front of Harry, placing her hands on his shoulders and forcing him to sit.   She straightened and put her hands on her hips, striking a formidable pose.  "Harry Potter, just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.  "One: I'm fully capable of making my own decisions.  Two: I'm fairly certain that once Madam Bones decides something, she won't change her mind.  I'm the only one familiar with the, er, thingie, and she didn't want to tell someone new.  Three: You _need_ me.  Don't even try and tell me you think that you or any of the others would recognize the thingie if you saw it."   Then she softened her posture and sat down again, placing her hands on Harry's arm.  "And four," she said softly, maintaining eye contact, "you don't have to protect me.  I'll be perfectly safe, and I'll stay out of the way if anything dangerous happens."

Harry looked at her for a long moment.  "Promise?"

She nodded.  "Promise."

Harry sighed.  "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't take care of yourself.  I guess I still worry about you."

"It's all right Harry, I wouldn't expect any less from you.  But it _has_ been several years since Hogwarts, y'know.  I'm a big girl now."

Harry managed a weak smile.  "Yeah, I suppose so, but…you're still my Hermione.  I have to make sure-"  Harry froze, horrified once he realized what he had just said; Hermione was, in fact, not _his_ any more.  Harry looked down at the floor, afraid to see her reaction to his slip.  "Um, I mean, er, I mean you're Hermione, and I'm used to-"

Hermione placed her hand on his arm again, stopping his babbling.  "It's okay," she said.  "You're still _my Harry_ too."

Harry looked up and met her eyes.  They shared a small smile, and then all of sudden Harry grew uncomfortable.  He cleared his throat.  "Er, yeah."  He retrieved his book and started to read, but stopped when he saw Hermione dig into her bag and pull out two books, a bunch of parchment, and a quill.  As he watched in wonder, she somehow managed to create a workable environment from within the confines of the chair, able to access her books and write legibly on a parchment at the same time.  She worked diligently for a few minutes until she noticed his gaze.  "What?" she asked.

Harry shook his head.  "Nothing," he said, a smile on his lips.

She squinted one eye at him in a lock of mock suspicion before returning to her work.  After a few minutes of companionable silence, Robert walked up to them.

"Ah, see you made it Potter.  We should be able to board the tube in a few minutes."

Harry nodded.  "Great.  Oh, Robert, this is my friend, Doctor Hermione Granger.  She'll be joining us."

"Ah, yes," Robert said smiling as he shook Hermione's hand.  "Madam Bones owled me about that…something about an expert joining us, though she told me not to ask any questions and just do whatever you said."

Hermione grinned.  "Ah, just the way I like it: unquestioning obedience."

Robert laughed.  "Good to have you on the team Dr. Granger."

"Please call me Hermione."

"All right, Hermione then."

Just then, a Sonorus'ed voice announced the boarding of their tube.   After holding a few of Hermione's parchments while she re-packed her bag, they stood and entered the tube together.

**A/N**: And now, off to America!  To tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure why I had Malvagita in America.  It makes more sense to have him in Italy, but I dunno anything about Italy.  Ah well. 

You may have noticed I changed the style a bit here.  I mean, two days (Sunday and Monday) passed within this short chapter, while my previous chapters covered one full day.  Basically, I'm gonna try and speed this story along and finish it.  I've been itching to write my sequel to DoF, but I have to finish this first.

Okay, so where was I?  Here's my long story:  a few days after I posted the last chapter, I met with my old employer about getting my old job back (more money!).  It's now been a month, and they still haven't sent an offer letter (I have the offer, just not the official letter), so I'm waiting.  In the meantime, my current employer offered me a new position when I tried to quit, but it involves a relocation.  I'm definitely thinking about it.  And just this week, I got an interview with a third company (today actually).  So, I haven't been exactly busy, just very, very distracted.

Thanks to everyone for responding to my question!

**Alex20**: very interesting…your review definitely made me pause and think.  You're right, I revised their break-up scene because I thought it made it look like it was all Hermione's fault, and I wanted Harry to have some culpability.  Then, I revised the make-up scene (in my head only) because, again, I wanted Harry to have more to apologize for.  I wanted it to be both their faults, but somewhere along the way it turned into Harry's fault.  My only defense (and I just thought of this now) is that since this is from Harry's POV, you get his somewhat biased viewpoint (the viewpoint that everything sucks in his life), and you never get to see Hermione's feelings on the matter.  I suppose at this point in the story it's a moot point.  Besides, Hermione _is_ a saint ;)   


	18. Changing Relationships

**2/9/04:  **Wow! How's that for a quick update?  I was either really inspired, or really bored at work.

**18. Changing Relationships******

The actual capsule that they were to ride in was very much unlike anything the Muggles used.  Rather than rows and rows of cramped seats, the tube resembled the Gryffindor common room, but with neutral colors instead (and no fireplace).  Comfortable couches and chairs littered the room, with a long table in the center for meals and such; there was even a bar along the side.  Harry and Hermione quickly found seats on one of the very comfortable couches, and Hermione began the process of removing her books and writing supplies from her bag again.  Harry fidgeted slightly as he looked around at the other passengers. 

"So, er," he began, trying his best to keep a level, calm voice.  "How long is this trip, anyways?"

"About twenty minutes," Hermione replied absently, without looking up.

"Okay.  So.when do we leave?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the wall behind them.  "We already have.  You can see the corridor through the window."  

Harry followed her gaze and saw a small window behind them, the floo corridor flashing by.  He turned away quickly, feeling slightly nauseous from the sight.   After a few minutes of silence, while Hermione scratched away with her quill, Harry cleared his throat.  "So, um.when are they going to go over the safety procedures?"  Hermione looked up and raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry realized that perhaps he had sounded a bit too anxious.  "Uh, I mean, on boats and airplanes they always go over safety procedures - lifejackets, nearest exits and all that.  I was just curious," said Harry, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

Apparently he failed, for Hermione had a rather wicked look of amusement on her face.  "Don't tell me that the fearless Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world several times over, is _afraid_ of taking the tube?"

Harry scoffed, or at least did his best impression of it.  "Me?  Afraid?  Ha!  I laugh at fear!  Ha ha ha!"

"Haven't you ever taken the tube before?"

"Of course I've taken the tube before.  Many times in fact," Harry said indignantly.

"No, I mean the wizarding version, not the Underground."

"Ah, well, you didn't specify."

Hermione looked bewildered.  "What do you do when you have to travel long distances?  Like across the country?"

"That's what apparition is for."

Hermione gasped slightly.  "You _apparate_?  Harry Potter!  That's _very_ dangerous!"

"Well, not all at once," Harry said, suddenly feeling defensive.  "I do it in jumps; I've become quite good at it actually."

"But _still_!  I mean, fine, if you don't use the tube, why don't you at least use a portkey?  I know you can make one yourself."

Harry stiffened slightly.  "I don't use portkeys."

"Why not?  At least you wouldn't risk splinching yourself!"

"I don't like portkeys," Harry said evenly.

"You don't _like_ portkeys?" Hermione said, a bit loudly.  "Well, certainly, I can see how your dislike of portkeys is worth risking your life!"

Harry turned away.  "Just drop it, okay?" he said quietly.

"Just drop it?" she parroted.  "This is your life we're talking about.  Just because you don't like something doesn't give you the right to risk your life like that!  You'll just have to grow up and-"

"Hermione!" Harry said suddenly, interrupting her.  "_You_ of all people should know the reason why I don't like to use portkeys." 

"What?" Hermione said, confused.  

"Just forget it!" Harry growled, now thoroughly irritated that he was being forced to talk about the subject.  He got up from the couch and stalked over to the bar where he ordered a shot of ice vodka.  It wasn't that using a portkey was uncomfortable (though the sensation of being led around by your bellybutton wasn't enjoyable).  And Hermione was right: he _was_ one of the few wizards who could create his own portkey, rather than having to request one through the Ministry.  It was just that there were too many memories attached with portkeys.bad memories.  Voldemort had used a portkey to bring him to the graveyard, where Cedric was murdered, and portkeys reminded him of that day at the Ministry when Sirius died, for it was a portkey that brought him home.  Since then, Harry has avoided portkeys whenever possible.

A few seconds later, the pretty witch behind the bar laid his drink in front of him.  Harry paid for the drink and gulped it down quickly, shivering as the sensation of being dumped into a pool of ice-cold water washed over him.  Satisfied, Harry put down his glass and considered ordering another when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Harry, I'm sorry.  I'm stupid and insensitive-"

"I said to forget it Hermione," Harry said stiffly, fingering his shot glass and staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

"I can't forget it.  I _know_ better; I should have remembered-"

"Don't worry about it."

"Harry, please, just let me apologize, okay?  I'm sorry."

Harry finally looked at her and gave her a small smile.  "All right.  I accept your apology.  Now, can we talk about something else?"

Hermione smiled and held his arm.  "Okay.  Come back and sit with me, and I'll tell you all about the safety procedures on the tube."

Harry lost focus for a second when she held his arm.  "Sure," he said, allowing her to pull him back towards the couch.

Hermione grinned. "It should be a rather short conversation, seeing as how there are none."

"Oh.wonderful," Harry said dryly.

"Don't be nervous Harry, we're almost there," Hermione said once they had settled themselves back on the couch.

"I'm not nervous," he protested.

"Oh-kay.  Suuure," she said in a tone that conveyed her doubt.

"No, really, I'm not.  I'm.excited."

"Excited?"

"Sure, I can't wait to get to America," Harry said.

"Really?  Me either.  I've done a bit of research on America," she said happily, ignoring Harry's look, "and I've found a few places that I want to visit if we have time for sightseeing.  Although the wizarding community there isn't nearly as old as ours, there are so many interesting places to see!"

"Mm-hm."

"Is there anyplace you wanted to see?"

Harry shook his head.  "It's not really that there's anything I want to see.  It's just that."

"What?"

"Well, let's just say it'll be nice to be normal for once."

"What do you mean?"

Harry pointed at his forehead and smiled.  "It'll be nice be able to walk around for once without people staring at my scar."

Hermione looked at him incredulously.  "What makes you think people won't recognize you?"

Harry's smile faltered slightly.  "Er, well.I mean, Voldemort was a European problem, wasn't he?"

"Oh Harry," Hermione said tolerantly as she retrieved her quill and began writing again.  "Still the same."

Harry stared at her for a few moments until he saw that she wasn't going to explain herself.  With a small sigh of frustration (and a bit of apprehension), he turned towards his book.

*********************************

Two things surprised Harry as soon as he exited the tube.  The first was the lingering sunshine that poured through the windows.  Harry looked over at Robert and grinned.  "A good night's sleep?  It's a floo, not a time turner." 

Robert looked a bit embarrassed.  "Yeah, well.shut it, Potter!" (**A/N:** for those confused, they left London at 11pm, but in Chicago it's only 5pm)

Harry knew he was grinning a bit doofily at Hermione as they made their way down the ramp, but he couldn't help it; it wasn't often that he was able to point out a mistake to his partner.  It was at the end of the ramp, when they entered the floo'port proper, that he received his second, and much less pleasant, surprise.

"There he is!" he heard several people cry out, most of them sounding female.  Harry was greeted by a cacophony of sound.  A large crowd of people were arrayed in front of the gate, being restrained with some amount of difficulty by a number of security wizards and witches.  Worst of all, they were screaming his name, taking pictures, and bearing signs.  Harry stood in shock for a moment, until Hermione propelled him forward by the elbow.

"So, how does it feel to not be recognized?" she asked innocently.

Harry turned away from the flashing bulbs to look at her.  "What.how.but."

"Oh Harry," she said again.  "A hero is still a hero, no matter where they are.  And Voldemort did have an impact here.  People still have family in Europe, and there was the fear that he would strike America after he was finished with Europe."

"Great," Harry muttered sourly.

"Cheer up, and wave to the crowd Harry.  They're here to see you, after all."  Harry groaned quietly, and than plastered a smile on his face and waved to the crowd.  They responded with burst of cheering.  Hermione grinned.  "It's like you're a rock star or something," she said, and then stopped and posed him for a few pictures.

Harry continued to smile benignly as Hermione made him pose with her.  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked from behind a clenched jaw.

"Of course!  It's not often Harry Potter gets to greet his fans!  And, this _is_ your first appearance in America!"

"Oh, you'll pay for this Granger," Harry said as he shook another hand.  Hermione only smiled.

A member of the American government met them at the edge of the waiting area and rescued Harry from his adoring fans.  Harry learned that the American Aurors called themselves Agents - special agents, to be exact, which prompted Harry to wonder where they kept the not-so-special agents.  He also saw that the American Agents seemed to have a fascination with dark Muggle suits and dark sunglasses, even when indoors.  As they were led to a series of fancy-looking wizarding cars, Harry wondered if they would stand out in their robes.

"Nice show out there," Robert said dryly from the front seat.  "I'm glad we were able to arrive so inconspicuously, y'know, maintain the element of surprise and all."

Harry growled.  "It's not my fault.well, not really.  I didn't tell anyone; it's not like I like that sort of thing."  Harry scowled as Hermione threw in her own little comments, and he saw that Robert and Hermione and each found an ally in making Harry's life difficult.  It was, then, with great relief when they stopped at a large building in downtown Chicago. 

The American, Special Agent Perkins, turned in his seat to look at them.  "I figured we can spend a couple hours going over what we know before we have dinner."  Robert nodded and got out of the car.  Harry also exited the car and followed Perkins to a rather large metal sculpture.  

"Why aren't we tired?" Harry asked Hermione quietly.  "I mean, it's almost midnight back home."

"It's the tube.  They have a spell that adjusts you body clock."

Harry nodded, and then looked at the strange assortment of metal that they were approaching.  He tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what it was supposed to represent.

"It's a Picasso," Hermione said next to him.

"Er, okay.  But what is it supposed to be?"

Before Hermione could respond, Agent Perkins spoke.  "Just follow me.  And don't worry about anyone noticing."  Perkins walked straight towards the sculpture and disappeared from view.

"Must be like King's Cross Station, but with another charm to prevent Muggles from noticing," Hermione said.  Harry nodded in agreement and followed Robert into the sculpture.

*********************************

Harry immediately noticed that the Americans worked in a much more modern environment then their British counterparts.  As Harry and the others were led to conference room, he was gratified to learn that none of the Agents gawked or gushed over him.  However, he then noticed a number of curious and awe-struck looks as they walked the halls, and decided that the particular Agents they were with were either very professional or simply not impressed by his fame.  In the conference room, they spent about an hour with three different Agents who gave a presentation on everything they knew about Malvagita.  It was enlightening, but also scarce of concrete detail, like what Malvagita looked like and where he could be found.  Tonks next spoke to the group, briefly describing what she knew about Tway's last owl, and it was determined that she would work closely with one of the American agents who knew about surveillance.  Hermione's presence was not specifically addressed, and Harry was sure that the Americans assumed she was just another Auror like Clarke and Price.

Dinner was at a nice wizarding establishment, a steak place to Harry's delight.  The wizarding part of Chicago wasn't in the downtown area, but rather about twelve kilometers north in an area they called Lincoln Park (Perkins told them with great amusement that the most famous statue of Lincoln is in Grant Park, while the most famous statue of Grant is in Lincoln Park).  Dinner was a sumptuous affair, and the alcohol flowed rather freely.  Hermione, in particular, had several glasses of a nice California merlot, so much in fact that Harry was slightly worried that she might slip about MSARS.  Harry, as was his custom, only had a small glass of firewhiskey and water - he had never drank much while in Hogwarts or afterwards, for he felt he couldn't risk impairing his judgment just in case something happened, and he knew the tabloids were just waiting to get a few pictures of Harry doing something embarrassing.  Harry begged off on the pub-crawl planned for after dinner, citing fatigue.  So, while Price, Clarke, and Tonks continued the night with the Americans, Harry, Hermione, and Robert were taken to their hotel.

To Harry's surprise, the hotel catered to both Muggle and wizard alike, with several spells in place to hide the existence of magic and magicals.  While they waited to check-in, Harry asked Hermione why such spells weren't as common at home.

"Well," Hermione began in a very cheerful voice - Hermione was a fun drunk -"Americans are much more accepting of Muggles and muggleborns; they're not a bunch of stuck-up git like Europeans."

"Really?  How come?" Harry asked, grinning at Hermione's use of the rather un-Hermione phrase 'stuck-up'

"How come what?" Hermione asked as she stared entranced by the chandelier in the lobby. 

"Er, how come Americans are so much more accepting of muggleborns?"

"Oh.right.  I supposed it's too much to hope that you actually paid attention in History of Magic?"

Harry shook his head.  "I _did_ fail that OWL, if you remember."

"Oh, that's right, you _did_!" she said laughing delightedly, apparently finding his academic shortcomings hilarious.  "Well, if you had paid attention, Mr. I'm-too-important-for-OWLS-because-I-have-a-Dark-Lord-out-to-kill-me, you would have learned that the majority of the founders of the American wizarding community were from mixed blood - that's the reason they left in the first place, to get away from the pureblood mentality."

"Ah okay.  It sounds vaguely familiar."

"That's a relief," she said, actually sounding relieved.  "And here I was, afraid that seven years of schooling had gone to waste."

Harry chuckled as he accepted his room key from the clerk, and together with Robert, they walked to the lift.  Robert exited on the fifth floor, reminding them to be up early for breakfast (Hermione saluted), and Harry and Hermione continued on to the eight floor.  They chatted lightly as they walked down the hall, Hermione going on and on about the history of wizarding America.  Harry saw, with a skip of his heart, that their rooms were across from each other.

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night Harry," she replied, looking at him a bit longer than necessary.  Harry quickly entered his room and shut the door, doubtful in his ability to behave himself around a tipsy Hermione.  He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize their relationship, and the thoughts currently swimming in his head would definitely do so.  Harry had time only to change into his pajamas and set his alarm clock when a knock sounded at the door.

"Er, hi Hermione," Harry said nervously after he opened the door.  She was barefoot, wearing only a tank top and shorts with her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail.  Harry took a few deep breaths as she brushed past him and into his room. 

"Ohhh, it's just like mine, just reversed!" she said, sounding awe-struck.  Harry couldn't help but chuckle.  Hermione was a _cute_ drunk as well; she got so excited about everything.

"So, uh.what's up?" Harry asked from beside the door.

"Oh Harry," she said tolerantly, again, and then gave him an impish smile.  "I just wanted to talk.  You don't have to be scared, I don't bite.well, just the one time, but that was _your_ fault."  Harry felt his cheeks heat up as a memory involuntarily flashed through his mind.  "Come sit beside me," she said, patting the bed.  After he had done so, despite his better judgment, she turned to look at him.  "Harry," she said with a pout, "you were very mean to me, you know?"

"I know.  I'm sorry-"

"Oh, that's okay," she said airily, dismissing his apology as if they had fought about where to eat for dinner.  "But it's too bad, because we haven't been _close_ in for so long.  I miss being _close _with you."  Then she laid a hand on his thigh, and warning lights started flashing in his head as he contemplated exactly what she meant by _close_.

"Er."

"I've missed you Harry.  A lot," she said, looking directly in his eyes.

Harry found he had two urges to resist: one to run away and hide in the bathroom, and the other to lean over and ravish her body.  So, instead he said, "you're drunk, Hermione."

"I am not!" she said huffily, gesturing wildly.  "Perhaps I've consumed a quantity of alcohol that was greater than my normal practice, but it does not mean I'm drunk!" 

"All right, all right," Harry said quickly.  He'd never seen Hermione as a mean drunk, and he certainly didn't want to see her as one now.

"Besides," she continued, sounding a bit petulant.  "It's your fault I drank so much tonight."

"My fault?  How is it my fault?"

"Well," she said demurely, a sudden change from her previous indignation.  "This really isn't like me, y'know?  I think that I needed a bit of courage."

"Courage? For what?" Harry asked, his voice trembling as Hermione ran a finger up and down his arm.

"For you, you dolt," she said playfully.  When she saw his confusion, her demeanor switched suddenly again.  "I _know_ you Harry Potter," she said patiently, as if talking to a child.  "I know right now you're very frightened and scared about our relationship, afraid to say the wrong thing or act the wrong way."

"I'm not scared-"

"Ha!  You're absolutely terrified!  It's funny how the man who faced down Voldemort could be frightened of a little thing like me," she said, and then as if to prove that it was indeed funny, she broke out into a fit of giggles.  Finally, when she recovered her breath, she spoke again, her voice changing again, this time low and sultry.  "So, since I decided I didn't want to wait for you to gather your courage, which could take years like the last time, I decided to take matters into my own hands, figuratively and literally."

Harry gave off an unmanly yelp as he felt her fingers run up his thigh.  He stood quickly and backed away slowly, Hermione following.  "Um, listen, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Of _course_ you don't," she replied, backing him against the wall.  "I told you already, I _know _you."  Harry felt his back hit against the door, and found he could retreat no longer.  Hermione pressed herself against him and began nuzzling his neck.

Harry gave off an involuntary moan as he felt every inch of her body against his and her mouth against his neck; his resolve was breaking, and his fears, for he was indeed afraid, were being clouded over by his desire.  He had one last ploy though.  "What.oh goodness...what about Rick?"

Hermione stopped and looked up at him curiously.  "Oh, didn't I mention it earlier?" she asked curiously.  "We broke up last week." 

"Oh," Harry said blankly.  And with the realization of what she had just said settling in, Harry found he no longer had any reason, nor the will, to resist.

**A/N**: Hehe, racy!  Anyways, that was my feeble attempt at writing something PG-13.  Some of you must be thinking that Harry's an idiot for resisting for so long, but keep in mind Harry has a very bad history when it comes to loving relationships - parents dying; Sirius dying; Ma and Pa Weasley rejecting him; Hermione breaking up with him; etc.  I think it's reasonable to think Harry would be deathly afraid of doing anything that might push Hermione away.

It's amazing that even though I'm trying to speed things along, that darn dialogue keeps demanding to be written.  Well, I do plan on ending this soon; perhaps two or three more chapters left, depending on how long I drag out the climax.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing!


	19. The Morning After

**2/11/04:  **Just so you know, this is a short_er_ chapter, mainly a set-up for the climax.  A transition chapter.  Don't expect a lot of soul-searching by Harry or Hermione.

**19. The Morning After******

Harry fought as hard as he could to stay asleep, he really did.  He had just had the most pleasant dream, and he would damned if something as trivial as his body's natural inclination to awake would take him away from it.  It was, of course, a losing battle, but Harry wouldn't go down without a fight.  As Harry basked in the afterglow of his dream, he felt the bed shift slightly, as if someone were changing positions beside him.  Harry snapped open his eyes and very slowly, as if afraid that if he moved too quickly he would find that this also was a dream, Harry turned over and was greeted by a sight that nearly made him cry out in joy.  There beside him, sleeping peacefully only a few scant inches away, lay Hermione, her face framed by her curls, eyes closed, and her mouth slightly open.

Harry knew that he should be terrified at that very moment.  How would she react when she woke up?  Would she regret what had happened?  Was she too drunk to even _remember_ what happened?  Harry knew that he should be in a state of near panic at that moment, afraid that he had just ruined any hope of repairing their friendship.  But Harry wasn't afraid.  He knew that he couldn't prevent what would come, so instead he decided to savor these few remaining moments of happiness.  Since he couldn't touch her for fear of waking her, he merely watched her sleep, trying to commit every detail to memory.

Harry didn't know how much time he had spent simply watching her, and he didn't know how much longer she would have stayed asleep had the blasted alarm clock not rung.  Harry froze - the alarm clock was on the other side of the bed, and he very well couldn't reach over her to turn it off.  He watched apprehensively as Hermione pouted slightly at the intruding sound and rolled over onto her back to turn off the alarm clock.  He then held his breath, waiting for what was to come.  Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Hermione turned her head towards Harry and looked at him.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, stretching languidly.  "Good morning Harry."

Harry found he couldn't find his voice.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  "Um, good morning Hermione."

Hermione looked at him again, and then rolled over to face him fully.  She gently placed a hand on his cheek.  "Don't be afraid Harry," she said softly.

Harry placed his hand over hers.  For a moment, he considered replying in a nonchalant manner, but this was Hermione.  He couldn't fool her.  "But I am," he finally said.  "I'm terrified."

Hermione scooted closer and kissed him lightly on the lips before snuggling closer, resting her head under his chin.  "You don't have to be.  Not anymore."

"But.this is too easy.  There's so much we still need to talk about."

"I know," she said.  "There is a lot that we need to talk about, and some of it won't be easy.  But right now, I just want to _be_.  Do you understand?  It'll still be there later, waiting for us."

Harry nodded.  He debated himself on whether he should tell her.  Was it too soon?  Would she be scared away?  Would she feel the same way?  Harry tried to scoff at his fears, considering all that had just happened, yet those fears, the fears that he wasn't worthy of love, would probably never be quelled, at least not entirely.  But he was Harry Potter, Gryffindor; it was time to lock those fears away in a box.  "Hermione," he said tentatively.  "I.I love you.  I never stopped loving you.  Not ever."

For what seemed like a long while, Hermione was quiet.  Those nagging fears started thumping away at his heart, until he heard her sniffle softly.  "I love you too Harry."

*********************************

After about twenty minutes of snuggling contentedly (two smacks of the snooze button), Hermione got dressed and left for her own room to get ready for the day.  Harry spent another ten minutes simply lying in bed, going over the events of last night and the morning in his head, committing every detail to memory.  Finally, after another reminder of the passing time from his alarm clock, Harry heaved himself out of bed and into the shower.  Harry had just finished with his hair when there was a knock at the door.

"Ready?" Hermione asked when he opened the door.

"Ready for what?" Harry asked suggestively as he gave her a lecherous once-over with his eyes.

"For breakfast of course!  What did you think?"

"Well," Harry said offhandedly, "you were rather _frisky_ last night.  I figured maybe you were ready for another go."

Hermione blushed slightly but remained composed.  "Perhaps later," she said, and then stood on the tips of her toes to give him a small peck on the lips.  "But for now, that's all you get."

Harry sighed dramatically.  "All right.  Better then nothing, I suppose.  Let me grab my robe."

They found themselves the first two people to show up for breakfast, surprising given how many times they hit the snooze button.  They were shown to a table and sat as water and bread magically appeared on their tables.  Harry started to butter a slice of bread while Hermione looked over the menu.

"Um, Hermione-" Harry began tentatively.

"Not now, Harry," Hermione said quickly, interrupting him.

"Huh?"

Hermione looked up from the menu.  "I know you're probably torturing yourself right now, thinking about what this all means and about our unresolved issues."  Harry nodded.  "Remember what I said earlier?  It'll still be there waiting for us at home.  For now, I just to pretend that we're Harry and Hermione again, at least while we're here in America.  Is that all right with you?"

A part of Harry wanted to disagree; his natural tendency was to deal with a situation like this immediately, and not to put it off.  But what Hermione was suggesting did have some merit - it was definitely the more pleasant option, and Harry would have at least a couple days of happiness before he could say something stupid and ruin it.  So, in the end, he agreed.  He could wait.

In general, Harry was not one for physical contact.  A handshake or two, or a tap on the shoulder was generally his limit, but he _was_ known to give out a hug or two after successfully avoiding death.  Having been subjected to a dearth of physical contact during his formative years, he was still very uncomfortable with the notion of a simple hug.  Therefore, no one was more surprised then Harry when he found that he was practically_ craved _physical contact with Hermione when they started dating.  His analytical side surmised that the part of him that was afraid needed constant reassurance in the form of a hug or holding hands.  He suspected Hermione knew that (she was rather attuned to his thoughts and feelings after all they had gone through together); if she did, she never let on, but she always took the opportunity to touch him when possible (and always appropriately, to his chagrin).  That morning, Harry found himself holding hands with Hermione like a pair of lovesick teenagers, but he couldn't stop himself.  It had been so long since they had last held hands, and a part of him _needed_ to know that this wasn't a dream.

Robert, of course, immediately noticed their sudden change in status, but he didn't give any indication except for a smile when he first saw them.  Tonks, on the other hand, was practically jumping out of her chair, and no doubt would have been doing so if not for the fact that she was sporting a rather persistent hangover from the previous night's activities.  Clarke and Price, not knowing the history between the two, simply accepted it all with polite curiosity.  Unfortunately, all too soon breakfast ended, and it was time to get back to business.  Harry's happy mood sobered somewhat as he remembered why he was in America in the first place.

In the end, finding the elusive Malvagita wasn't nearly as difficult as Harry thought it would be.  He attributed it to the typical weakness of all egomaniacal Dark Lords - arrogance.   Harry had been very worried that his sudden and well-publicized visit to America would prompt Malvagita to go to ground, but it was either his arrogance or their flimsy cover story about Harry visiting to improve relations between the two nations that kept Malvagita in place.

It was Tonks' work that provided the break.  Again, it was either due to Malvagita's arrogance that his owls couldn't, or wouldn't, be tracked, or he truly did not suspect that they had connected Tway to the wannabe Dark Lord.  Their first full day was spent mostly in meetings and waiting around.  Tonks and the American surveillance experts performed the real work as they pinpointed Tway's owl in the city.  The owl, predictably but regrettably, did not go directly to Malvagita, but to one of his lieutenants.   Once this was discovered, the work began in earnest for Harry and the others in the form of surveillance - a stake-out, possibly the most boring activity for an Auror.  Hermione didn't fare much better, either.  Though they shared the same boring Tuesday, Hermione, to her severe displeasure, wasn't allowed on the surveillance activities ("Remember?  You promised!" Harry would remind her).  When asked by the Americans, Robert told them that she was an expert who would be examining the evidence they collected.  

Finally, after almost a week of following suspects and owls, one of the American agents trailed a suspected Dark Arts practitioner (previously thought to be in the state of Florida) to a rather large and sprawling compound south of the city.  It had several spells cast upon it to make it hard to find, including Muggle-repelling spells and a spell to make it look like a collection of abandoned warehouse.  It was also unplottable, but as the Agent had followed the suspect directly to it, he could now find it.

A two-day planning session followed, as the Aurors and Agents collaborated on the best way to infiltrate the compound and capture Malvagita.  Agent Perkins, who was the Agent-in-Charge of the Chicago office, was vehemently against taking such rash action on only two days' planning.  However, the Minister of Magic had a confidential conversation with the President (Magics), making him aware of certain details that affected both countries.  The President (Magics), in turn, called the Director of Bureau of Magical Investigations, who called Agent Perkins and stressed the need to "do whatever the Brits say to do."  

Somehow, and Harry truly had no idea how this happened - perhaps he had gone on a coffee break? - Hermione had managed to get herself placed on the raid.  Fortunately, she would be limited to the Command & Control (C&C) van until the raid was complete, and then she would be allowed to examine whatever "evidence" she was supposed to be an expert on.  It was as such that Harry, along with his fellow Aurors and a several squads of Agents, silently gathered around Malvagita's compound.

**A/N:** Almost done!  The next two chapters are filled with action, which may or may not appeal to you.  I admit that I sorta wussed out on this chapter.  While I do see it as realistic that Hermione would want to put off having 'the conversation' until they get home (why ruin a good moment?), I mostly wrote it that way because I'm too lazy to write all that emotional dialogue.   Like I said before, it's time to put this story to bed.

**kraeg001:** hmm.I would imagine the US wizarding capital would be someplace more historic.  Once they all came over from Europe, I see the wizarding community setting up shop not too far from the Muggles.  The wizards wouldn't really have a reason to move their capital like Muggles did, so it would probably still be there.  Also, I definitely see American wizards as being more 'current' then European ones, since there's not the thousands of years of tradition bogging them down.

**Alex20: **I'm glad you like the plot.  And, if it makes you feel any better, I probably would have tried to add a few scenes to show Hermione's role in the break-up beyond being a victim, but I got lazy.  However, I do plan to have Hermione do something bad in my sequel to _Decisions of Fate_.

**Vanna:** I used to live in Lakeview (a few blocks from Wrigley Field) for several years before I got married and became a suburbanite.  Ah.the good old days.

**Alatoic01:** Sorry no explanations, like I said, I'm lazy.  Though basically, Hermione was never in love with Rick.he was just very fun, no pressures.  But once Hermione and Harry had their dramatic reconciliation in chapter 13, she realized that she loved Harry and couldn't date Rick knowing that she still loved Harry and that there was a chance they could get back together.

**sethro72:** hey, any review is a good review.

**Akuma-sama:**  thanks for the beta offer.  I won't need one for this story, but I'll most likely be contacting you for the sequel to _DoF_.  Be sure to read _DoF_ to see if you like the plotlines.

**Jouve25**,** Rocky235**,** Risty**,** Facade1**,** and ears91: **Thanks for the reviews!  I thought Hermione was a cute drunk too :) 


	20. Later On… aka, the Morning After Part II

**2/12/04:  **All right, let no one ever accuse me of not crumbling to criticism.  Due to feedback, I've decided to stretch out the end of the last chapter.  I wrote this up this morning, so excuse any grammar issues.  I'm still not going to have Harry and Hermione discuss their issues though; I explain why at the end.  Let's pick up the story after breakfast ended…

**20. Later On… (aka, the Morning After Part II)******

Harry Potter was bored.  Bored, bored, bored.  For the past five hours, straight through lunch, Harry had been sitting in the back of a theatre-like conference room at the Bureau of Magical Investigations (BMI) building, listening to reports about Malvagita, his suspected past operations, suspected dark wizards, suspected hideouts, suspected this, suspected that.  It was like a double History of Magic lesson all over again, but with free snacks.  Speaking of which…

"Again?" Robert whispered impatiently.  Harry shrugged lamely as he scooted past Robert and into the aisle.  He walked up to the exit and into the hallway, towards the bathroom.  The one bad thing about free drinks is that Harry felt compelled to take advantage of them.  He mused that perhaps it was because he was kept from so much with the Dursleys that he was making up for it now.

Besides, it wasn't like he was missing anything.  He basically learned everything he wanted to know last night at the first briefing.  But several additional agents had been brought onto the case, and Perkins felt the need to subject everyone to an even more thorough briefing with even less facts.  Harry wondered what the point of it all was, since everything was suspected, nothing confirmed.  As he walked back towards the briefing, Harry idly wondered where Tonks was.  She had come to America with a trunk full of parchments and a wide assortment of magical doodads.   Whatever she was doing, it was bound to be more interesting and productive then what Harry was suffering through.

*********************************

"Wasn't that absolutely fascinating?" Hermione asked as she dug her fork into the pile of noodles on her plate.

"Yes, fascinating," said Harry, with much less excitement.  They were eating dinner at a Muggle restaurant that one of the Agents recommended, opting for a night alone together rather than joining the others.  The restaurant was located in one of the many malls that seemed to litter the street that they were on, called the "Magnificent Mile" by the Agent.  Harry wasn't sure how magnificent it was, but it was definitely a touristy spot.  It was an interesting restaurant, specializing in many different Asian cuisines all at once, from Thai to Japanese.  Hermione had ordered a Thai dish, while Harry had ordered sushi.  Raw fish was something he never imagined he would enjoy, but he found that he liked it years ago after succumbing to Hermione's constant prodding (usually mocking his lack of Gryffindor spirit).

Hermione didn't seem to notice his dearth of enthusiasm.  "It's so interesting when you compare how the Dark Lords of this century have operated.  When you compare Grindelwald's activities with those of Voldemort's and now Malvagita, it creates a pattern that, when you take the time to examine it, truly reflects society and how the wizarding community – Harry!  Are you listening to me?"

Harry snapped his head up from his sushi.  "Hm?  What?  Of course I'm listening to you!" he said, trying to sound offended and not embarrassed.

"Oh really," she said skeptically.  "Then what was I just saying?"

Harry scoffed, buying a few precious seconds to remember.  "You know, Grindelwald, Voldemort, Malvagita…stuff like that."

"Uh huh…and what about Grindelwald, Voldemort, and Malvagita?"

"That…that they're very interesting."

"Riiight," Hermione drawled.  "Were you paying attention at all during the briefing, between your frequent bathroom breaks?" she asked.  "Honestly," she said, without waiting for an answer, "this is very important information.  You need to know this if you want to stop Malvagita!"

Harry shrugged.  "But it's sooooo booring!" he whined.  Then, he took hold of one her hands on the table and flashed her his best smile.  "Besides, it's not my fault that I couldn't pay attention.  I was too distracted by you."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes, but he could tell that she was restraining a smile.  "Whatever."

Harry grinned, pleased that he had successfully avoided a lecture.  "Let's not talk about work, okay?  Tell me about some of the places you want to see in America?"  Hermione smiled and began describing some of the places she wanted to visit, that is, if they had time after the case ended.  They talked pleasantly for the remainder of dinner, avoiding subjects from the past and keeping their discussion firmly rooted on the present.  After dinner, they decided to walk for a bit.

The shops and stores on the street were all closed by the time they finished dinner, but Harry was surprised to find that there were still a great many people out and about.  Hermione held his arm and leaned comfortably into him as they walked down the street, gazing through the windows at the items being sold.  It was a pleasant night, and Harry was content.  After about half an hour, Harry caught Hermione stifling a yawn.  "Ready to go back?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged.  "I suppose.  We do have to get up early tomorrow," she said, regretfully.  Harry nodded, more so at what she was feeling then at what she said.  He could tell that, like him, she wanted to savor every newfound moment together.  

Walking a little further, he pulled her along a side street and into an entranceway to a shop.  "Shall I apparate us, then?" he offered.  Hermione nodded, so Harry took her hands and apparated them to the hotel.

They appeared in the lobby of the hotel, in a special spot reserved for apparating guests (and away from Muggle eyes).  Everything was fine until they got to their floor, and Harry suddenly became nervous.  What should he do?  Should he ask her in?  Would she ask him?  He knew that he wanted to be with her tonight, if nothing else than to wake up next to her.  But he was still afraid (damn that fear!) of her reaction should he suggest a nightcap.

"So, um…do you, er…I mean, if you want…" Harry stammered when they reached the doors to their rooms.

Hermione giggled.  "You are _so_ cute sometimes!  Yes Harry, I'd like to come in for awhile."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and then realized he probably wasn't looking very suave at the moment.  He straightened and nodded a manly nod, eliciting another round of giggles.  Harry gave up and simply opened the door for Hermione, letting her go ahead before closing the door behind him.

*********************************

The morning brought good news for the assembled Agents and Aurors: they had a lead.  Tonks and the American surveillance experts, working all night (and making Harry feel a twinge of guilt for his relaxing night), had finally traced Tway's last owl to an address in Chicago.  The owl had arrived at a rented apartment south of the downtown area, leased to a Patrick Simon.  Patrick Simon, alias Simon Allen, was known to the BMI; he was a suspected Dark Arts Practitioner (DAP, as the Americans called them), though sufficient proof for an arrest had never been collected.  He was also relatively low on the food chain of evil, so they knew he was merely a go-between.  A team of agents and a surveillance van was dispatched to keep an eye on him.  About two hours later, the agents following Simon reported that he had met up with another suspected DAP.  This required another team to follow the second DAP, and Harry and Robert finally had something to do.

An hour later, Harry and Robert found themselves seated at a table in a pub in the north part of Chicago.  Their DAP, Andy Connor, was seated about twenty feet away at another table with some people, periodically yelling at a television.

"I still don't see why they make such a big deal about football," groused Robert as he regarded television with skepticism.

Harry shook his head.  "It's not football, it's baseball.  They don't like football over here.  And they call it soccer anyways."

"Well, at least the Americans have _that _going for them.  Anyways, I still don't see what all the fuss is about."  A loud cry of disappointment filled the bar as one of the teams scored.  "I mean, seriously, all that running around, using your legs, and there's only _one_ ball!"

"Shhh!" Harry said, noticing the curious looks they were receiving from the table closest to them.  Harry pulled his baseball cap further down on his head, making sure his scar was hidden.  "You're such a tourist, in more ways then one.  I think you'd probably like football, it seems more your style."

"You know I don't like football."

"Oops, I mean American football, not soccer."

"Huh?  You mean there's a difference between American football and European football?  And what's soccer?"

"Er, don't worry about that.  The point is I think you'd like it.  It's more violent - people tackling other people and such.  It's a little bit rugby."

"Rugby?"

Harry grinned, stifling a laugh.  "Right, just like how baseball is similar to cricket."

"Oh, now I know you're being an arse…how in the world can this" – Robert waved at the television – "be similar to an insect?"

Harry couldn't help it; he burst into laughter.  Robert just grumbled something about the indignity of being forced to grow up with Muggles.

Harry and Robert followed Connor the rest of the day, watching as he got drunk at one bar after another.  "Doesn't this guy have a job?" Robert muttered after they left their third bar and were entering their fourth.

Harry shook his head.  "This is a waste of time.  He's too drunk to do anything evil tonight."  Robert agreed, but they both knew that they would keep tabs on him the rest of the night regardless.

9pm found Harry sitting alone in the surveillance van while two American agents were watching the DAP (Connor might notice if Robert and Harry followed him all night, though in his current inebriated state it was doubtful).  Robert had left the van for a quick break, and Harry didn't bother looking up when the door opened.

"Hi!"

Harry looked up from the viewing crystal.  "Hermione?  What are you doing here?"

Hermione climbed into the van and kissed him lightly on the lips before sitting next to Harry.  "And a hello to you to," she said dryly.  "I decided to give Robert the night off.  Besides, I didn't like the idea of my man spending all night with another man."

Harry grinned.  "Oh, the jealous type, are we?"

Hermione nodded.  "Insanely jealous."

"In that case, I'll have to prove that Robert means nothing to me, won't I?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

"Yes, I do believe that you will, and I'll need _a lot_ of convincing," she said suggestively.  Harry leaned forward some more, intending on kissing her, when she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back into his chair.  "But not now.  We have a job to do," she said, and then turned to look at the viewing crystal where she could see Connor laughing at some joke.

Harry stared at her for moment, before sighing and turning his attention to the crystal.  "Tease!" he muttered.

Hermione's laughter filled the van.

*********************************

Harry walked into the BMI conference room the next afternoon feeling ill-tempered, passing a grumpy-looking Price and a bleary-eyed Clarke.  Price and Clarke had taken the third shift as Harry and Hermione retired to the hotel.  Though Harry was excused from stake-out duty for the morning and early afternoon, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.  Though stake-outs were incredibly boring (at least, when Hermione wasn't there), it was better than what he had to endure that day – a publicity tour.  In order to ease suspicions about Harry's sudden appearance in America, he had been scheduled to appear at a variety of places throughout the country, traveling by floo'port to various cities around America to meet with self-important wizards and witches and wave to fans.  Though he was irritable, he couldn't help but feel a little better when he spotted Hermione walking over to him, her eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

Harry was helping himself to cup of coffee when an Agent burst into the room and began a discussion with Perkins.  Harry made eye contact with Hermione, and both could tell that something important had just occurred.  "Any idea what that's all about?" she asked, looking at the two Agents in deep conversation.

Harry shook his head.  "No idea."  After another minute, Perkins and the other agent left the room, to the disappointment of everyone who noticed their intense conversation.  

About an hour later, Perkins returned and called all the assembled Agents to gather around the table in the center of the room.  As Harry and Hermione found spots by the table, the Agent who had ran in earlier waved his wand over the length of the table, and a three-dimensional map of Chicago appeared.  "All right, listen up," Perkins said.  "At approximately 4:38pm, Agent Hogan and his team followed DAP Allen to this location here."  Perkins pointed at a spot on the map, which cut away from the rest of the map and enlarged.   "From his vehicle, Perkins watched as DAP Allen entered this field and suddenly disappeared from view.  Naturally curious, the surveillance team determined that the field was unplottable and protected by a variety of wards.  Based on this information, we believe that this location is at least a safehouse for Malvagita and his DAPs.  We set our intelligence department on it and should know more soon."

Three hours later, they had their answers.  Once again, Harry was impressed with how the Americans embraced Muggles.  Harry found that the BMI had made their own contribution to the many satellites that the Muggles sent into space.  Hidden from Muggle eyes, advanced viewing crystals had been attached to almost every satellite that went into space, giving the BMI the ability to spy on almost every square inch of America, and many places abroad.  Harry shivered slightly when he realized that some of those satellites must be over England.  Regardless, Harry was amazed at the pictures they were now viewing, that showed a de-cloaked compound.  It was very large.  An outer wall protected the large grounds of the compound, while various small structures dotted the grounds – barracks or storage sheds, perhaps – until they reached an inner wall.  Behind the inner wall were four courtyards at each point of the compass.  From the courtyard were the entrances into the main building, which could not be penetrated by the spy crystals.  But though the crystals could not penetrate the solid structures, they were able to pick up the magical resonance signatures from the compound.  Some of the signatures were easy to pick out – heating charms, cooling charms, water charms (for the grounds), etc.  One grouping of charms just past the courtyard on the east side of the compound, however, was unidentifiable by everyone, except for Hermione.

Harry felt Hermione grab his arm.  He turned to look at her.  "What is it?"

"That's where they make MSARS," she whispered excitedly.

"How can you tell?"

"Those resonance signatures…those are quarantine charms, protective charms, and disinfection charms."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione gave him a look.  "Of course I'm sure!  I work with those charms every day!"

"All right, all right."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What are we going to do about it?  If I could get in there, I can find a cure!"

Harry shushed her.  "Let's see what Perkins has in mind."  Before Harry could ask, another Agent echoed his thoughts aloud.

"What do we do now, sir?"

Perkins looked at the Agents grouped around the table.  "We need to continue with our surveillance on the compound.  We'll track all the DAPs who come and go from the compound.  Hopefully we can turn one of them and get inside information, or somehow infiltrate one of our own Agents.  Once we have enough information and evidence of Dark Arts, we can stage a raid to-"

"Excuse me sir," Harry interrupted.  "But how long do you estimate it will take to gather sufficient information?"

Perkins fixed Harry with a hard look, clearly not used to being interrupted.  "Based on prior experience, somewhere in the neighborhood of three to four months."

Harry shook his head.  "I'm afraid we don't have three months."

"Oh really?" Perkins said, crossing his arms across his chest.  "And what do you recommend, Mr. Potter?"

"We need to move as soon as possible."

"And why is that?"

Harry pointed at the magical signature by the east courtyard.  "These represent various medical and scientific charms.  We have reason to believe that Malvagita is developing a biological weapon.  The sooner we can shut it down, the better."

A murmur swept through the crowd at Harry's words, but Perkins seemed unimpressed.  "A biological weapon, eh?  Would this be his so-called plan to wipe out Muggleborns?  We've heard that rumor before, Mr. Potter.  Where's your evidence."

Harry stiffened.  "I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."

"As I thought.  Well, until you _are_ at liberty, I'm afraid we'll proceed as planned."

"I was afraid you'd say that.  May I be excused?" Harry asked.

"By all means."

Harry left the conference room, indicating to Robert that he should stay.  Hermione followed closely on his heels.  "What now?" she asked worriedly.

"Now we contact Madam Bones."

*********************************

As soon as Harry and Hermione entered the BMI building the next morning, an Agent stopped them.  "Agent Perkins wants to see you."  Harry nodded and followed the Agent to Perkins office.  Hermione waited outside as the Agent closed the door behind him.

Perkins sat behind his desk, looking unhappy.  "Well, looks like you're getting your way Mr. Potter."

"Sir?"

"I have just received a call from the Director of the BMI, who apparently talked to the President (Magics) himself.  I have been _ordered_ to abide by your _recommendation_.  We'll attack the compound immediately."

"Very good, sir."

Perkins looked at him in the eye.  "Tell me Potter, tell me this is worth it.  Tell me that the lives of my men are worth it, that the risk of losing Malvagita is worth it."

Harry did not break his gaze.  "It's worth all of it, and more."

Perkins scowled.  "It better be.  Now get out of here."

The next two days were a flurry of activity.  Given how protected the compound was, as well as the large number of DAPs suspected to be within, the BMI's special forces team was brought in, commanded by a bristly old Agent named Samson.  Units were covertly floo'ed into Chicago as to not arouse suspicion.  Planning sessions went on through the night, Perkins grumbling throughout, until a workable attack plan was devised.  They would attack that night.

**A/N:** Since some people liked the developing H/Hr relationship and were disappointed that I cut it short, I've decided to explain why I stopped writing the relationship – it's just too much work!  Though they're destined to be together, it won't be happily ever after once they declare their love for each other…they'll definitely have issues.  Once Harry gets over the whole 'trapped by fate' thing, he's still going to be very insecure.  Having grown up with the Dursleys and then being a celebrity since age eleven, some part of him will believe he's unworthy of love (or at least doubt that anyone could love Harry, not just the Boy-Who-Lived), and he'll need constant reassurance.  Also, he'll probably be jealous boyfriend, but he'll at least realize that it's unfounded.  As for Hermione…although there's no evidence that she's insecure about her looks, it's _likely_ that she is, being bushy-haired, buck-teethed (until fourth year), and probably a big nerd before Hogwarts.  So, she'll probably also be very insecure about her relationship with Harry, and seeing witches throw themselves at him will make her jealous and depressed about her own looks.  Just thinking about writing about that makes me exhausted emotionally!  Frankly, it'll be best for the two of them if they ran off somewhere away from Harry's fame.

**kraeg001: **hopefully I haven't disappointed you by putting their relationship to bed, so to speak ;)  As for a baby?  A bit scandalous, I'd say!

**Greywind**: Whoa, I found that reaction to Hermione odd since I didn't really have her do much in the chapter.  Was it just the chapter, or the whole story?       

**sethro72** and **Akuma-sama**: This one's for you!  Hope you like it, the next chapter is shorter, but it's action, and action-filled chapters are generally shorter because there's little dialogue.

And thanks to **Rocky235**, **Facade1**, and **ears91** for reviewing!


	21. The Assault

**2/16/04:  **Okay, here's the action.  If anyone reading this has any military or similar background, please excuse my feeble attempts at realism, like real doctors who watch _ER_ must do.  There're a lot of players here, so it may get rather confusing (it was confusing to write); I don't think there's much I could do about it though.  Also, there's a bit of light swearing in this chapter, so cover them virgin eyes!

**21. The Assault******

At one in the morning, on a very cloudy night (courtesy of various spells), Harry watched through wizarding binoculars as three recon teams silently approached the outer walls of the compound.  He desperately wanted to be part of the initial strike force, but that was not to be.  The five Aurors had been split up and each assigned to a different squad in a 'support' role.  While they could have stayed together to form a team of their own, Agent Samson delicately suggested that it would make better sense to have them in an observation role as opposed to a direct combat role, given their special status.  In actuality, Harry knew that Samson didn't quite trust their abilities, and though frustrated, he couldn't blame him.  After all, Samson had never worked with the Aurors before and didn't know what they were capable of; Harry would do the same if he were in Samson's position.

That, of course, was little consolation as he watched the Agents slink across the open field.  Apparition was, predictably, charmed against, so the attack had to be on foot.  He was a bit jealous of Hermione at the moment, knowing that being in the C&C van, she was privy to a more detailed view of the attack, able to see what the team leaders were seeing in order to identify the "evidence" that she was searching for.  As Harry tracked the recon teams' progress, he tugged awkwardly at the body armor he was wearing, unaccustomed to the thick padding.  He hardly wore the uncomfortable armor while on duty, as his natural magics were usually enough to protect him from all but the most powerful spells.  But regulations were regulations, and Agent Samson followed regulations.

In his earpiece, he heard the team leader of Blue Team announce that they had reached the outer wall.  The earpiece was an amazing invention, and Harry marveled at the creativeness of the Americans.  It was essentially an earplug that allowed everyone to speak covertly.  All one had to do was place a finger on the earpiece and mouth the words, and it would be transmitted to everyone else wearing an earpiece.  There was a "general" channel, which everyone could hear, and then there were other channels that only Team Leaders and Commanders could, as well as channels for the individual teams and groups.  Harry, Robert, Tonks, and Hermione had managed to convince Samson to give them the all-access earpieces, with the promise never to speak on the command channels unless necessary.  It was decided that Clarke and Price did not require the higher channels, though a special 'Auror channel' had been included for their use.

"Red Team in place," Harry heard in his ear.

"Where's Green Team?  C'mon Green, let's move it!" came the voice of Samson.

"Green Team approaching the target…almost there…" Harry could almost hear Samson's impatience over the earpiece.   Finally, "Green Team in place."

"All right.  All teams: commence Phase One."

Harry felt a bubble of excitement as the operation began in earnest.  The binoculars were useless now that the Teams were penetrating the outer wall, and Harry hunkered down and listened intently.

"Red Team approaching the first Checkpoint; no sign of opposition."

"Green Team aye."

"Blue Team aye."

The plan was relatively simple: the three recon teams, Red, Green, and Blue, were to create secure entry points into the inner compound for the assault teams.  Once the assault teams and the recon teams had linked up, they would form an assault group and attack the inner compound.  Surveillance showed that the compound was not heavily guarded, and though there were plenty of DAPs inside, most, if not all of them, would be asleep at the late hour; apparently Malvagita was confident in his warding charms and the unplottable nature of the compound.  Samson's plan was for overwhelming force, relying on the element of surprise.  If the main assault force could penetrate the inner compound without being discovered, they should be able to overwhelm any defenders inside easily.  If they were discovered, well, it would be more difficult, but Samson was confident in his men and the size of the assault force.  He had managed to bring in over seventy-five Agents onto the mission; he would have preferred more, but that much movement would undoubtedly raise suspicions.  Six squads of five agents each were specially trained for these types of missions, not including the three recon squads that were presently within the compound.  Three additional squads had been made up of Agents in the Chicago office, and these nine squads would form the main assault force, three to each entry point secured by the recon force.  The remaining available agents were organized into three squads and would form the reserve force, called where needed.  If necessary (and it would require a dire situation), the "headquarters" force that was in the C&C van could be used as a last resort.

He knew that for his team, Gryffindor (the three support teams were code-named after three of the four Hogwarts houses in honor of the Brits), Phase One meant sitting and waiting.  His team was part of the reserve force, with Robert and Tonks on the other two reserve squads.  Clarke and Price, much to their dismay, were in the C&C van.  They protested angrily, but a rather firm word from Harry made them see otherwise.  Their assignment, as dictated by Harry, was to keep Hermione safe.

Harry listened to the progress of the raid on his earpiece.  Red, Green, and Blue Teams had secured the three break points that led into the North, West, and East courtyards, and the main assault force was carefully approaching the compound.  Everything was going according to plan, and therefore, predictably, that's when everything went to hell.  Harry instinctively averted his eyes as a large explosion filled the night sky, illuminating the grounds.  He blinked rapidly as he attempted to regain his eyesight.

"Report!  Report!" came Samson's voice over the earpiece.

After a few tension-filled seconds, an unfamiliar came over the line.  "There's been an explosion!"  Harry sighed in frustration – of _course_ there'd been an explosion!

"Who is this?  Identify yourself."

"This is Red Two.  Red Six is down.  Red Three is down."

"What happened?"

Red Two sounded a bit frantic.  "I…I don't know sir!  Everything was fine; the assault team was coming and all of a sudden-"

Another explosion reverberated through the air as Harry ducked his head.  Harry looked up at the compound to see two fires burning fiercely in the night air.  Chaos seemed to reign over the earpiece as everyone started talking at once.  Harry flinched under the onslaught and switched channels.  The combined channel provided a garble of information; Harry selected the team leader/HQ channel.

A number of confused and harried voices filled that channel as well until Samson took control.  "Alpha Six, Bravo Six, Gamma Six - stop where you are.  Confirm."

"Alpha Six confirm – we have halted progress."

"Gamma Six confirm."

"Alpha Six confirm."

Harry knew that Samson had stopped one of the assault teams from proceeding as planned.  He switched to talk on Auror channel, which had been quiet.  "Hermione!  What the hell is going on?" he mouthed.

"I…I'm not sure.  It looks like two of the assault teams tripped off some type of trap."

"Samson halted the third assault group to prevent another explosion.  He's trying to figure out the extent of the damage," came Price's voice.

Harry growled, feeling utterly useless.  He turned his attention back to the TL channel.  "Omega Six, Epsilon Six, I need a sitrep now!"

Omega and Epsilon were the call signs for two of the assault groups, which combined three assault teams and their recon team.  

"This is Omega Six.  Kappa has been completely incapacitated.  Delta and Lambda report only minor cuts and bruises.  Red is at 50% efficiency."

"This is Epsilon Six.  Assault teams report only minor casualties.  Blue Team reports heavy casualties."

"Okay.  Ravenclaw," – Tonks team – "move up and support Omega.  Omicron Six," – the third assault group – "proceed with extreme caution.  Be on the lookout for defensive measures.  I need - wait one."  After a few seconds, Samson returned.  "Omega Six, Epsilon Six, intelligence reports increased activity within the compound, moving towards your positions.  Estimate five minutes until DAP contact."

"Yes sir."

"Acknowledged."

Harry listened as the two assault groups readied themselves, setting up defensive positions and tending to their wounded.  After what seemed like much less than five minutes, Samson reported,  "Omega, prepare for enemy contact."

"Understood," came the voice of a calm Omega Six.  Seconds later, "Enemy sighted.  Engaging."  Silence reigned for the next few minutes as Harry fidgeted.  He knew that in the C&C van, Samson had a much better view of the fighting through the individual viewing crystals that about 20% of the Agents wore.  But that didn't help Harry.  He switched over to the Omega Assault channel, hoping to get a better idea of what was going on.

"Where's Red Two?!  Can anyone see anyone from Red Team?"

"This is Delta Three.  Red Team is being pinned down by – shit! – I can't see Red Team!  They've…Red Team is down, repeat Red Team is down!"

"Delta Six, get your guys over to cover Red Team!"

"Yes sir!"

"Ravenclaw, where are you?"

"We're almost there…ETA two minutes!"

"Get your asses in gear, we might not be here in two minutes!"

"Settle down Potter!" Harry looked up, surprised to see he had half-risen from the ground.  "We stay put until ordered otherwise," hissed Agent Davis, the salty commander of Gryffindor.  Harry returned to his prone position on the ground, suitably chagrined at his impulsive movement.

"This is Epsilon Six," came a voice over the general channel.  "We are engaging the enemy now."  Harry turned back to the HQ channel.

"Understood," said Samson. "Omicron Six, report!"

"This is Omicron Six.  We're…we're having trouble bypassing the defensive measures."

"Can you do it?  How long?"

"We can do it Sir…estimate ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Harry could hear the tension (and anger) in Samson's voice.  After a brief period of silence (Harry assumed Samson was consulting the rest of the HQ staff), Samson order Omicron group to continue with utmost haste.

"Omega Six, report!"

"Omega Six, we have been pushed back to checkpoint…C.  Ravenclaw has linked-up, and we have stabilized our position, but we are being pinned down by enemy fire."

"Can you drive forward?"

"Not without additional support."

"Maintain your position Omega group.  Epsilon Six, report!"

"Epsilon Six, we are engaging the enemy and advancing."

"Gryffindor Six, Hufflepuff Six, move forward and join Epsilon group.  I need a breakthrough!"

Harry felt a fluttering sensation in his chest.  "Gryffindor, follow me!" Agent Davis yelled over their earpieces as the five Agents and one Auror scrambled to their feet and began running towards the compound.  Harry switched his earpiece to only accept the Gryffindor and the Auror channels, so as to stay focused on his part of the mission.  Up ahead, Harry could see the sprinting figures of Hufflepuff team heading towards the breech in the outer wall made by Blue Team.  The last member of Hufflepuff disappeared through the breech just as Harry's team reached the wall.  After a quick check by Gryffindor Two, the team poured through the opening and rushed to link up with the Epsilon Group.

The acrid smell of smoke filled the air as Harry entered the compound grounds, and the sounds of spells and incantations could be clearly heard ahead.  "All right Gryffindors," Davis ordered over the earpieces, "follow me and stick together."  Davis led them down through the open grounds and past a few burning structures that had been 'dealt with' by the recon team.  They continued on and passed a large crater (evidently where the explosion had occurred), running at a crouch, until they reached the large courtyard.  Harry knew from intelligence schematics that they had to reach the doorway on the other side in order to penetrate the inner compound.   The trick was to eliminate the opposition that protected the single entrance point.

Harry ducked a wayward spell as he joined the rest of Gryffindor team behind what looked like the remains of a fallen pillar.  "Our job is to take out the wizards above," Davis ordered, pointing above them.  Harry peered over the debris as the team began firing spells back at the enemy, and he saw several wizards firing down upon them from a balcony, dressed in an assortment of colors.  At first, Harry was taken aback, accustomed to finding dark wizards wearing only black.  But then he realized that many of these particular dark wizards were still in their pajamas, roused out of bed by the explosions.   The combination of protective shields and age-old ducking made these wizards difficult targets, but at the very least the Gryffindor team could keep them occupied.  Harry felt a brief flash of elation as one of his stunners broke through a shield and struck down one of the wizards, but was quickly brought back to reality by a near miss from a retaliatory spell.

After casting a quick shielding spell, Harry noticed several gargoyles adorning the balcony.  Remembering a trick of Dumbledore's, Harry focused his magic and flicked his wand at four of the stone statues, the limit of his ability to enchant large objects.  Instantly the four statues flickered into life and flapped their wings, alighting from their stony perches.   As one, the gargoyles took to the air and swept around, heading for the wizards on the balcony.  Harry heard a few cries of surprise as the gargoyles swooped down on the wizards, spells bouncing off their stone hides.  With the combined forces of stone gargoyles attacking from above and Gryffindor team attacking from below, the defenders on the balcony were quickly defeated, several being pushed from the balcony by the gargoyles.  Harry then directed the statues towards the other defenders as Davis ordered the Gryffindor team to another position.

After seven minute of furious fighting (it seemed much longer than that), the courtyard was secure, and Samson had his breakthrough.  Davis told them to hold tight while the rest of Epsilon group made cautious forays into the compound.  Harry briefly listened in on the HQ channel during the brief respite, learning that Omega team was still holding fast, with a few members of the HQ team joining them in support and to evacuate the wounded, and that Omicron group had been re-routed to join Epsilon group since they had not made much headway through the defensive traps.  Two minutes later, the fresh and unscathed agents of Omicron group arrived at the courtyard, and once again Gryffindor team was delegated to a support position, ordered to wait in the courtyard until needed.  Harry found Robert sitting on the ground, nursing a minor leg wound.

"You all right old man?" Harry asked, trying to sound light but unable to push the concern out of his voice. 

Robert growled, but it was a growl with a smile.  "Yeah, fine.  This old body doesn't work as well as it used to.  Nice enchanting, by the way."

Harry shrugged modestly.  "It was nothing.  Anyways, how-"

"Potter, Roberts, come in!"

Harry put his hand to the earpiece, setting it to the Auror channel.  "This is Potter.  Erm, what's going on Price?" Harry said, trying and failing to think of the correct way to respond.

"Er,"  Price sounded very nervous.

"Spit it out Price!" Robert barked.

"Okay, now, don't go flying off the handle or anything, but Clarke and I were drafted by Samson to help Omega group with the wounded…"

"And?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Well, when we got back to the C&C van, Dr. Granger was missing."

***************************************************************************

**A/N:** Just so no one's left hanging, Hermione wasn't kidnapped or anything - she just ran off to join the fray.  This just seemed like a good place to end the chapter.  There's one last chapter with a little epilogue ahead.

Thank you to everyone for reviewing!  

**Ides of March: **Hi there!  Stop reviewing and get back to _Subservience_!  Just kidding!  Anyways, about Harry being OOC:  I see Harry as being a very cynical and sarcastic guy (and a little bitter).  I found him rather hysterical in OotP, even from the very beginning:

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"This _is _night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this." (OotP American Version, pg 14)

And then there was the comment about Voldemort sticking out of the back of Quirrel's head.  But I digress.  Anyways, I agree that he hates being kept in the dark, but only about important things.  To Harry (in my story), hearing about the "what if's" and "maybe's" aren't important to him.  He doesn't care about all the deep background stuff because the cynical side of him hates wasting time listening about things that may or may not be true.  He wants to _do_ something and take action, not just sit around and listen.  Just like in OotP: just because Harry's being a bit more assertive doesn't mean that he paid any more attention that usual in History of Magic, Divination, Astronomy, etc. 

I'm not sure what bothered you about the wizarding system of law…I actually never got into the whole post-arrest part (except for Tway's interview) or any courtroom scenes, but I surmise, based on the rest of the wizarding world, that the European wizarding system of law would be rather antiquated, more of a "guilty until proven innocent" mentality.  I tried to portray America as more liberal, since if a bunch of Muggleborns, feeling stigmatized, fled to the new World, I'd see them as more accepting of and learning from the Muggles.

**Akuma-sama**: hey, I've put my email up on the profile page.  I think I read in your profile that you block emails, so here you go.  And, of course, anyone else is welcome to write me nice happy emails.


	22. Malvagita

**2/23/04:  **Well, here it is, the final installment.  Hope you enjoy!

**22. Malvagita******

"Say again?" Harry asked, hoping he had misunderstood.

"Dr. Granger's gone.  She's not in the van."

"What?!  Dr. Granger!  Come in, ya daft girl!"  Silence. 

"Hermione!  I know you can hear me!" Harry said.

"Er, hi everyone," Hermione said tentatively over the channel.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Um…out?"

"Out?  What the hell does that mean?"

"It means not in."

"Don't be coy with me Granger!  Where are you?"

Harry heard her sigh over the channel.  "I'm heading for Omega group."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.  "Samson ordered you to join a support force?"

"Well…not exactly."

"Then what is it…_exactly_?"

"I…I saw something related to the special _evidence_ near where Omega group was before."

Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get a straight answer from her this way, especially if it involved MSARS.  "Stay where you are, I'm coming to you.  Is it clear to your left or right?"

"What?  Harry, you can't-"

"Is it clear to your left or right?" Harry repeated angrily.

"My right."

"Stay put."  Harry dropped his hand from his earpiece, but Robert grabbed his arm before he could move. 

"What about your team?"

Harry scoffed.  "What about them?  They don't need me to help them sit on their arses."

"Goddamit Potter, you just can't leave without telling anyone.  You have a responsibility!" Robert said.

"Bloody hell!" He glared at Robert briefly.  "Fine, you're right, as usual," Harry groused before spinning on his heels to find Davis.  He found Davis talking to Hufflepuff Six.

"Agent Davis," Harry said, interrupting his conversation.

Davis turned to look at him, clearly irritated at being interrupted.  "Potter, can it wait?" 

"Sorry, no.  Requesting permission to detach myself from Gryffindor team and link up with HQ team."

"Huh?"

"I want to leave and join the HQ team."

"What?  Why?"

"One of our Aurors has gone missing.  I intend to look for her."  Harry left out the fact that he could find her in seconds, but he knew Davis would have a hard time denying him permission if he thought that Hermione was missing.

"All right Potter.  Go find your missing Auror and get back here as soon as you can."

"Yes sir," Harry said, and then disapparated.

*********************************

There were two primary methods of apparition, line-of-sight and by memory.  Line-of-sight was exactly that: you see where you want to go, and pop, there you are.  It was the easiest form of apparition (taking the least amount of concentration and energy), but it was generally limited to short trips (what you can see).  Memory apparition was much more difficult and took more magical energy to complete.  First, a wizard or witch would picture either a person, place, or object in their mind.  Assuming their picture was accurate enough, pop, there you are again.  This form of apparition required a very thorough knowledge of the place where you wanted to be, and after their first night together in America, Harry felt that he had a very thorough knowledge of Hermione.

Though there were wards barring apparition in the compound, Harry was fairly confident he could apparate through almost any ward; after all, he had been known to apparate around Hogwarts (though not by anyone with authority).  He hadn't dared try and test his belief before the operation began, for fear of alerting Malvagita that his wards had been broken, but now that the operation was in full swing, Harry felt no such reservations.  With a soft pop, Harry disappeared from the courtyard and found himself in a hallway, Hermione on his left looking slightly flustered and embarrassed.

"Hi," she said nervously.

Harry glowered at her.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Listen Harry," she said anxiously.  "I was watching the Omega group through the viewing crystals and I saw what looked like the entrance to a laboratory.  The position matched with the aerial pictures of where we think the lab's located.

Harry sighed.  "What did you see?"

"There was a door that looked like it was marked as a decontamination area."

"This couldn't wait until the fighting was over before you investigated?"

Hermione shook her head.  "There's too much fighting going on!  Spells are being flung about haphazardly.  I couldn't take the risk that something critical would be damaged, or that Malvagita would protect the lab or destroy material while we were still fighting through."

Harry shook his head.  "That's all well and good Hermione, but it's too risky-"

"Please Harry!" Hermione said with a hint of desperation in her voice.  "This is worth the risk; it's too important!  Lives are at stake!"

"Yeah, _your_ life!" Harry retorted.

Hermione paused a beat.  "Not if you come with me.  You can protect me while I investigate."

"I don't-"

"Please Harry?"  Hermione resorted to one of her pouty looks, and Harry found his resolve slipping away.

"Fine, but I'm in charge; you have to listen to everything I say, all right?"

"Agreed," Hermione said happily.

Harry shook his head as he followed Hermione across the open grounds, telling himself that he was agreeing to go along with her to save lives, and not because he couldn't say no when she gave him that look.  Soon enough the sound of spells being flung about could be heard, and Harry grabbed her by the arm and halted her progress.  "Stay behind me," he whispered.  She nodded and let him pass, following closely behind.  Whereas Epsilon had pushed through to the North Courtyard, Omega had been repelled backwards to the grounds, fighting in open air.  Peeking from behind a vacant building, Harry could see that various agents had taken shelter behind the few buildings that dotted the grounds, while others fought from hastily dug holes.  The dark wizards were arrayed outside the entrance to the East Courtyard, preventing the Agents from advancing.

"It's through there," Hermione whispered behind him, pointing at the East Courtyard.

"Through the courtyard?  And how do you expect to get past all the defenders?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly.  He turned back to the fighting and tried to devise a plan.  Though he was powerful, he couldn't simply fight his way into the courtyard.  Aware that time was a factor, Harry could only think of one option.  "All right," he said, turning back to Hermione.  "We'll have to apparate behind them."

She looked at him in surprise.  "Apparate?  But the wards…_you_ may be able to apparate through them, but I can't!"

"I'll have to take you with me."

"But…they'll see us immediately once we apparate into the entranceway," Hermione protested.

"Then we'll have to apparate behind them, into a secluded part of the courtyard."

"A secluded part of the courtyard?  You've never _been_ in the courtyard, how can you find a secluded part of it?"

"Well, I've seen the East Courtyard from the intelligence pictures, and I've been in the North Courtyard, which is supposed to be designed the same.  We'll have to take our chances."

"But-"

"Hermione, this was _your _idea in the first place!  Unless you have a better idea…" Hermione thought for a moment, but was ultimately silent.  "Right then."  Harry grabbed Hermione around the waist and pulled her tight.  He grinned when he saw her curious look.  "If I'm going to apparate the two of us, you need to be as close to me as possible."

Hermione gave him a wry smile.  "Oh, is that so?  I don't remember that the last time you apparated us."

"That was different.  This requires more touching; in fact, our lives depend on us being as close to each other as possible."

Hermione sighed dramatically.  "Well then, if _our lives depend on it_, I guess I don't have much a choice, do I?" she said, before wrapping her arms tightly around him.  After grinning stupidly for a moment, Harry focused himself on the task at hand, focusing his magic and visualizing what he imagined the East Courtyard would look like.  Harry was using line-of-sight to determine the general area, and memory (or imagination) to pinpoint the location.  Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and apparated.

Harry opened his eyes to see that they were in another location, Hermione firmly held in his arms.  Before he examine his surroundings further, Hermione gasped loudly.  Reacting instinctively, Harry fell to the ground, pulling Hermione on top of him as a spell flew through the air above him.  Wand in hand, Harry stunned the wizard who had attacked him, and jumped to his feet, looking for more threats.  He recoiled as another spell hit the ground a few feet from him, and Harry whirled to face another wizard, bring him down with another stunner.  After he was certain that no other wizards had noticed them, he gently helped Hermione to her feet.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione said, obviously distressed.

"Hm?  Sorry about what?"

"Sorry that I'm so useless, that I couldn't help you just now!"

Harry gave her a reassuing smile.  "It's okay-"

"No, it's _not_ okay.  I used to be…better at stuff like this."

"It's like riding a bike; it'll all come back to you," Harry grinned.

"I hope so.  It's been so long since the last time that my life's been in danger, which also happened to be with you, if I recall correctly," she added with a small smile.

Harry smiled back, happy that Hermione was no longer depressed.  After all, it was likely that he'd need her spells if they were going to succeed.  Hugging the walls of the courtyard, they slipped through the unguarded entrance (the dark wizards focusing all of their efforts on the Agents outside) and into the inner compound.

"Where's the door you saw?" Harry asked quietly.

"Up ahead and to the right…or maybe to the left…no, definitely to the right…I think."  Harry gave her a look.   "What?  It was all very fast – lots of running and flashes of magic and such."

Harry declined to respond and continued down the hallway.  A few seconds later they found the door that Hermione had seen.  "Why wouldn't they put the lab nearer to the center of the compound, where it's more secure?" he wondered aloud.

Hermione shrugged.  "Probably in case something went wrong, all the important people inside would be safe.  Besides, they probably never thought we'd ever get thisfar."

Harry nodded and started to push the door open when Hermione stopped him.  "Are your bio charms working?"

Harry looked at her in confusion until he realized what she meant.  They had told Samson that Malvagita was working with biological weapons, which prompted the Commander to order that all Agents and Aurors were to affix biohazard charms on their armor.  Harry checked to make sure the charms were undamaged and then nodded his head.  Hermione nodded back, and then Harry slowly pushed open the door.

A spell stuck just inches from Harry's face, and Harry fell backwards, the door slamming shut.  "Stay down," he told Hermione, and then cast a shield spell as he opened the door and rolled to the side.  Two spells smashed into the door behind him as Harry regained his feet, his wand already sending his own stunners at the two wizards apparently guarding the room.  One wizard went down, the other had managed to cast his own shield spell, sending the red streak back at Harry.  With the tip of his wand, Harry 'caught' his reflected spell, where it gathered into a bright red ball of magic.  With a flick of his wrist, Harry threw the spell back at the guard again, who was too surprised to defend himself.  A quick check of the room revealed no other guards, and Harry fetched Hermione.

The room that they were in appeared to be a preparation room – a few protective amulets and suits (cheaper than amulets) hung along one wall, and a large window on the opposite wall revealed a large, empty laboratory with a large, clear vertical tube in the middle of the room, going from ceiling to floor.  Harry quickly examined the unconscious guards and saw that they both carried the communication orbs that the Americans favored, as opposed to the Auror mobiles that he was accustomed too.  "We have to hurry, Hermione.  They might've had time to call for help."

Hermione nodded and quickly examined the room.  After a few moments, he gave her a questioning look.  She shook her head quickly, and then nodded towards the other room.  Harry nodded his understanding and walked towards the door connecting the two rooms.  Carefully, he pushed the door open and entered the laboratory, Hermione behind him.

As soon as Harry ascertained that the room was safe, Hermione sprang into action.  She walked quickly to the tube and examined what lay within while Harry prowled the edges of the laboratory, checking for danger.  Hermione called his name, and when he looked over at her, she had a wide smile on her face.

"It's here Harry!  Everything we need to find a cure!"

Harry nodded.  "Then don't just stand there, get to work," Harry said quickly, tempering it with a small smile.

"Oh…right!" Hermione said, focusing herself on the task at hand.  Harry walked over to her and kept one eye on her and the other on the door to the other room.  Hermione worked quickly, deftly manipulating the tube controls to take apart a box that lay within the tube.  Harry's curiosity grew as he watched her, trying to figure out exactly what she was doing.

Suddenly, Harry felt the hairs on the back of neck rise, and he grabbed Hermione and pulled her aside to the ground, ignoring her cry of surprise.  Just in time too, as a spell flashed through the air behind them, smashing into the back wall.  Harry stood quickly and trained his wand at the source of the attack, quickly surveyed the dark-robed wizard who had somehow entered the laboratory without Harry noticing.  Harry could sense the power emanating from the man.  "Malvagita, I presume?"

The wizard nodded.  "In the flesh.  Now, be so good as to back away from the tube," he said, gesturing with his wand.  By this time Hermione had gotten to her feet, staring at Malvagita anxiously.

When Harry failed to move, Malvagita sneered, "So be it."  With a flick of his wand, an unmistakable green light shot from his wand at Harry.  All too accustomed to the killing curse, Harry quickly conjured a squashy armchair in the air in front of him, which intercepted the killing curse and burst into flames, disintegrating before his eyes.  Without waiting for the remains of the armchair to hit the ground, Harry sent his own spell at Malvagita.  Barely reacting in time, Malvagita cast his own shielding spell.  But he apparently underestimated the power of Harry's stunner, and the red light broke through Malvagita's shield and slammed into his shoulder, dropping him to one knee but failing to knock him out.  Harry couldn't take advantage of this strike, as he noticed a large number of wizards pouring into the outer room through the window.  Taking aim at the door, Harry cast the most powerful locking spell he knew.  Harry quickly turned to Hermione.  "Get what you need and let's get the hell out of here!  I'll cover you."  Hermione nodded and went back to the tube controls, working with a heightened sense of urgency.

In the meantime, Malvagita had recovered from Harry's spell and stood calmly, facing him.  "Very impressive, very impressive indeed.  But clearly, you do not realize whom you're facing.  This is your last chance to surrender, and I promise I'll kill you quickly."

Harry laughed, knowing that it would irritate the other wizard.  "Surrender?  To you, a Voldemort-pretender?  I think not."

Harry was right; Malvagita bristled with anger.  "Insolent fool!  My power _rivals _the great Lord Voldemort!"

Harry scoffed.  "I fought against Lord Voldemort, I knew Lord Voldemort, Lord Voldemort was an enemy of mine.  Malvagita, you are no Lord Voldemort!"

Malvagita roared in anger and sent killing curse at Harry, which was again intercepted by a squashy armchair.  Harry fired back another stunner, which was dodged.  Malvagita cast another spell, but this time at Hermione.

Harry leapt in front of Hermione and cast a shielding spell.  The force of Malvagita's spell was so strong that it pushed Harry back, his boots sliding on the floor, but it did not penetrate Harry's shield.  Hermione looked back at him quickly then returned to her work.

Malvagita sent several spells in succession at Harry, each time stymied by a shield or counter-curse.  Harry realized that Malvagita didn't dare send a killing curse at Hermione, for fear of missing and destroying the tube.  Stunners, which only affected people and not objects, were all he could use.  He also quickly saw that though Malvagita _was_ a powerful sorcerer, in terms of magical might, Harry was superior. (**A/N:** okay, positions may be confusing: Harry and Hermione were in front of the tube when Malvagita entered.  Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the side.  While Harry and Malvagita dueled, Hermione ran back to the tube.  When Malvagita shot at Hermione, Harry stood between them, so Malvagita can't send killing curses at Harry for fear of missing and hitting the tube.)

Malvgatia seemed to realize this as well, and he shot another spell, but this time at the door, blasting it open.  Harry's eyes widened, but Malvagita's spells returned to attack him, preventing Harry from stopping Malvagita's followers from entering the room.   

"No killing curses!  Stunners only!" Malvagita screamed as his followers began firing at Harry, who soon found himself being attacked from all directions by multiple wands.  Without any alternatives, Harry cast and maintained a shielding spell.

"Hermione!  We have to get out of here!  How much longer?" he yelled over the sounds of the spells and incantations, focusing all his power on maintaining the shield that enveloped the two.

"Just a few more seconds!"

"We don't have a few more seconds!"

An eternity passed by as Harry felt his shield weakening.  "Ready!" she yelled.

"Get down in a crouch!" he yelled back.  After giving her a second to do so, he released his shield spell and ducked down, covering Hermione with his body and wrapping his arms around her as spells crashed into the tube above them.  With a soft pop, the two disappeared.

*********************************

**A/N:** I was going to have the Epilogue separate, but it was too short for its own chapter.  So, here it is.  By the way, in case anyone caught it, I "borrowed" a quote from 1998 Vice Presidential Debate for a little attempted humor.

Epilogue

Only one thought kept Harry conscious once he apparated: Hermione's safety.  Harry knew that simply apparating back to the grounds was no guarentee of safety; for all he knew, Malvagita's DAPs could have retaken the entire compound.  No, the best chance for safety lay back at the C&C van, back behind their own lines.  A jump like that, through a anti-apparition ward, with another person, and his magic already taxed by maintaining his shield spell, took everything Harry had left.  After apparating, Harry peeked open his eyes at the witch he held within a tight embrace.

"Are you okay Hermione?" 

"I…I think so," he heard, and then as relief washed over his body, he fainted away.

*********************************

Though his eyes felt like lead weights, Harry opened his eyes, groaning at the pounding he felt at his temples.

"Harry?"

Harry looked over in the direction of the sound.  He smiled.  "Hermione."  She looked tired and a little frazzled, but otherwise unharmed.

"How do you feel?"

Harry considered that for a moment.  "Headache.  Tired.  But otherwise all right.  How about you?"

Hermione cocked her head to one side.  "Headache.  Tired.  But otherwise all right."

Harry smiled.  "What happened?"

"You collapsed after apparating us away.  You've been asleep for about twenty minutes now."

"Did you get what you needed from the lab?"

Hermione nodded, a smile finally appearing on her face.  "Mission accomplished," she said.

"What about Malvagita?"

Hermione shrugged.  "I'm not sure…I haven't heard anything since we got back."  Harry reached for his earpiece, but realized he wasn't wearing it.  "Here," said Hermione, handing him the device.

Harry looked at the earpiece.  "Thanks, but I think I'm too knackered for that right now.  I can't do anything about it anyways."  Harry stifled a yawn.  "How're the other Aurors?"

Hermione put the earpiece in her own ear and mouthed a few words.  She listened for a few seconds.  "Everyone's fine.  Robert has a slight leg wound, but otherwise everyone's fine.  Harry, I have just one question."

"Hm?"

"When Malvagita sent the killing curse at us…why did you conjure a squashy armchair, of all things?"

Harry chuckled.  "It's the largest object that I could conjure quickly.  I know it wasn't very manly, but it worked."

Hermione smiled.  "Yes, it did.  Now, go back to sleep Harry."

Harry thought about protesting, but in the end decided to take Hermione's advice.

*********************************

The debriefing session was far more interesting then the briefing sessions.  Harry sat comfortably in the theatre-like room listening to Perkins and Samson review the operation, while Hermione was off in some laboratory somewhere.   The Director of the BMI had ensured that Hermione would have access to the most advanced medical laboratory that America had to offer; as such, she had taken an enchanted car (as the MSARS spores she collected were to delicate for floo or portkey) to the east coast somewhere.  Harry would be joining her soon, once his role here was completed.

Though they had suffered many casualties, the majority occurring at the onset of the raid, the operation was considered a resounding success.  There were only two Agent fatalities, and dozens of DAPs were apprehended, along with the main objective, Malvagita himself.  His apparition wards turned to be his downfall, as he couldn't escape the same way Harry had.  Follow-on investigators collected evidence and Dark Arts materials that would put many, if not all, of DAPs in prison.  In fact, there was enough evidence about Malvagita's worldwide operations to keep many different law enforcement wizards and witches from many different countries busy for a long time.  There was a very festive atmosphere in the Chicago BMI office that night, and Perkins was actually seen to be smiling.

For Harry's particular mission, well, success was still to be determined; Hermione was still working on finding a cure.  In the end, Harry spent another day in Chicago, going over after-action reports and saying good-bye to the Agents he had met.  At the floo'port, the Aurors parted ways, with everyone else returning home and Harry off to meet with Hermione.

*********************************

"Harry?"

Harry looked up from the book he was reading to look at Hermione.  The excitement was evident in her voice.  "What?"

Hermione's face broke into a dazzling smile.  "I've done it," she said simply.

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise.  "You did it?"

Hermione nodded, beaming.  "I did it!"

"You did it!" Harry cried aloud, his own smile reflecting hers.  He jumped to his feet and grabbed Hermione into a fierce hug, spinning her through the air.

Hermione laughed delightedly.  "Put me down Harry!" she said between her laughs.

Harry stopped spinning her, but he kept her aloft.  "I knew you could do it," he said softly, and then kissed her.  

Once they had parted for air, Hermione said again, "Put me down Harry.  I still have a lot of work left."

"You do?" Harry said, surprised and disappointed, as he lowered her to the ground.  "How much longer?"

"Just a few more hours.  You can go back to the hotel if you want."

Harry shook his head and walked back to his perch, picking his book up again.  "No, it's okay.  I'll wait.   I'd wait for you forever."

Hermione looked at him and rolled her eyes.  "That was cheesy, but I love you."

"Love you too."

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed this, my third story.  For those following my writing, hopefully I've demonstrated some improvement over the course of the stories, especially from the first few chapters of _New Identity_.  

Okay, I know this was sort of a short, crappy ending.  But the rest is pretty boring: Hermione isolates the cure, and everyone's happy.  The end.  So, the big question: will there be a sequel?  Eh, who knows?  I doubt it, unless I can think of a suitable plot.

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.  I love you all – in a strictly platonic way, of course ;)  I hate to thank only certain reviewers, since it might make it sound like I didn't appreciate everyone's reviews, but some deserve special mention for reviewing many, many, many times:

Special thanks to **Facade1**, **ears 91**, **sethro72**, **kraeg001**, **Rocky235**,and, bucking the trend, **Risty** and **HeeroTomoe**, who somehow managed to make the list despite not having numbers in their user Ids ;)

Thanks also to my multiple reviewers who managed to make it at least to December (the others probably aren't reading this anymore): **Akuma-sama**, **Calen**, **Maxx77**, **szelij**, **onkel**, **Ides of March**, **Alatoic01**, **Alex20**, **Honey Bee ****80**, **ChickFlick004**, **fopalup1**, and **jouve25**.  And to **I won't tell**, who came late but left some really nice reviews!

I'll look for you at my next story.  'Til then, cheers!


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